


Mojave Whispers

by BattyRae



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Backstory, Bad Parenting, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Family Feels, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nightmares, No Romance, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Apocalypse, Recovery, also I'm pretty awful to my characters, just so you know, so expect pain, warning for child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 61,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattyRae/pseuds/BattyRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before an unfortunate meeting with a man named Benny the courier was just trying to survive life in the wasteland, but who were they exactly? What events turned them into the hero (or villain) we know? This is who my courier was when Vegas was far out of her reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl with no Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tez/gifts).



> This story wouldn't exist with two people who have helped me all through this journey.
> 
> The beginning belongs to my sister. Without her this story would be nothing more than a bunch of random ideas floating around in my head.
> 
> The end belongs to Tez. After all the feedback, encouragement and inspiration you've more than earned a mention. IOU 5%.
> 
> Thank you both.

Molly is my name. Sort of. I wasn’t born with it. The wasteland took whatever my first name was long ago. When I started drifting I quickly found that I needed to be able to introduce myself, otherwise folks are less inclined to trust me. I played around with names for a while. April, Nat, I even introduced myself as Jack once early on, had to think real quick to get out of that one. But Molly is the one that stuck.

I suppose that I have to talk about my upbringing. I don’t like doing this. I lost a lot during my childhood, and the worst part is I didn’t even know what I didn’t have. I didn’t know that my life could be any different.

I first killed a man when I was four years old.

He’s kneeling on the ground, hands tied behind his back, face still dripping blood from the beating my mother gave him. She stands next to me as I tilt my head slightly to look down at him. His hooked nose was broken, shattered by my mother’s angry fists, his strong jaw was swollen from her kicks and punches. Blood had begun to dry and stick the edges of his short hair together, hair that was cut in the fashion I would, in the future, associate with those in the Legion. He glares at my mother, cursing under his breath. I feel her hand clench on my shoulder. When I look at her, she holds out a tarnished knife, blunt as a stick.

“Take it.” She murmurs. “You know what I want you to do.”  
Hands shaking, heart thundering in my chest, I obey her.  
The man’s gaze now switches to me. His mouth twitches up into a smirk. Scornful, and not at all afraid. He doesn’t think that I could kill him. I don’t blame him. Even out here, after all this war, in the midst of all this chaos, four year olds generally don’t kill people. Most of the time, you’re still learning to shoot a gun at four, aiming at radroaches and tin cans. Children that young are meant to be protected. Not just from danger, but from horror. They may gain some understanding of it, everybody does. But they do not commit executions.

But then again, not everyone’s met my mother.

I look directly into the man’s eyes. Then I drive the knife into his chest.

He starts to make a noise, a gurgling noise. Blood runs up and out of his mouth to join the blood on the rest of his face.  
My heart speeds up even more. The tremors in my hands spread throughout my body. I pull the knife out and strike again.

And again.  
And again.

It seems to go on for hours, even though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. Again and again I drive the knife into his chest. And again, and again, and again. I strike out at him until the gurgling stops. And then I strike him again for good measure. When he’s finally silent, I drop the knife. My mother moves to my side, silent as a ghost, quick as a river. She glances down at the corpse, at the blood staining the ground. Then, without any change in her expression, she looks down at me, the bloodstained child huddled in the dust, and reaches down to take the bloody knife with the same hand she pauses for a second to use to dry the tears she always told me were a sign of weakness.  
“Sloppy.”

And away she walks.

This is a fair example of the relationship between us. She would tell me to do something. I would do it. She would belittle me. I am certainly grateful that I didn’t grow up alone with her. Otherwise there’s no telling the kind of damage that she could have done to me. I also had a brother. Younger than me, that much I know for sure. Neither of us had names then, but it was simple to tell who our mother was calling for.

If she said the order to come over to her in a cool, distant voice, she wanted my brother.

If she barked it, impatience colouring her tone, she wanted me.

I’m not saying that she wasn’t hard on my brother. She put him through the same trials as she put me. But she was kinder to him. She was far more concerned about his safety than she ever was about mine.

When I was five, my mother taught me about the collars used by the slavers that roam the wastes, looking for anyone they can subdue, the danger that not even our solitude could guarantee protection from. What they are, what they do, and how to get them off if worst comes to worst. This wouldn’t be so bad, and it’s certainly come in handy during my travels, but the problem was she armed the collar and put it on me.

“If you cut the wrong wire, it will explode.”  
Panicked, I yank at the collar.  
“Don’t bother with that nonsense. It’s not coming off until you cut the right wire.”  
I try to focus on my breathing, knowing that I only had one shot. My fingers find the wires and tremble as I count them. One two three four five six. But was it the third or fourth?  
“You have twenty seconds” my mother drawls. She holds the trigger that will explode my collar.  
“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”  
Third or fourth? Third or fourth?  
“Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…”  
I know the wire I had to cut was green, but I can’t see it from here. I twist my neck desperately, trying to find the right angle.  
“Ten, nine, eight…”  
By pulling at the wires, I can just see them. The third one is green.  
“Five, four, three...”  
I shut my eyes and cut the third wire.  
My collar beeps once. But it does not explode. I hear the catch release with a clunk.  
“Looks like I’ll need another wire then.”  
I open my eyes, but my mother was already walking away. I didn’t even bother to cry in relief.

When my brother turned five, he also learnt to disarm a slave collar. But he didn’t have to wear it.

I did. Trembling as he counted out wires and screaming inside whenever he considered the wrong one.

You may be wondering why nobody ever stopped my mother, took me and my brother away from her. Truth is they didn’t know we existed. We lived in a small cave in the mountains. We didn’t trade. Any strangers that came into our territory were killed. The animal life in the surrounding area was our main source of food. I got pretty good at hunting them down too. When we weren’t securing our next meal, we were training. The collars and executions were only the beginning.

Knives, guns, fists, stealth. My mother taught us, and did not do so gently. My brother and I were often injured badly by her. Then she would send us out to find plants that we could use to heal our wounds. She had little information on the subject, so what we learnt, we learnt through trial and error. She never injured us so badly we couldn’t heal ourselves though. She wouldn’t let us die, not after all the work she put into us.

Years and years went by. Every day we hunted the few mutated bugs and animals in our territory, were beaten, slashed, burnt and shot at, healed ourselves and let it start all over again. I think when things first began to change was when I was about thirteen. 

I was out hunting. My only escape from my mother’s hard voice and harder fists. We haven’t had a kill in days, and our stores are running low. Off in the distance I can see movement. Excited but cautious, I creep towards it. With me I carry two knives, ammunition being too scarce to waste on hunting trips, as I get closer I see that the shape is a Brahmin. But it’s not shaped exactly like the others I’ve seen. It had lumps on its back, packs. As I realise what this meant a tall man steps into my line of sight. I want to get away from them, to creep back to my mother and alert her to the intruder. There’s no way to truly please her, so I take a second to weigh my options. She would be angry that I didn’t just kill him, but she would be livid if she didn’t have the chance to assess what kind of a threat he might be. As I begin to creep away I hear a clicking sound behind me. On an instinct too strong to ever resist I whirl around, stealth forgotten, to find a giant radscorpion. The brute is coming in quick. I ready my weapons and stand my ground as it charges. When it gets within range, I leap up onto its back. Hissing, the creature bucks and twists, trying to shake me loose, but I’ve already done what I needed to. The scorpion’s stinger lies on the ground as I tumble off its back. With its poison out of the question the beast attacks with its claws. I jump over its first swipe, but it catches my leg while I’m in the air and I fall to the ground a second time. Above me the scorpion rears up to deliver the killing blow, but then a gunshot rings out, crying both death and salvation. The man was aiming at the radscorpion, and so was a woman I hadn’t seen before. The creature snarls in pain, turning to face this new threat. As it does I drive my longer knife into its exposed belly. Dead, it topples to the ground.

“Holy shit kid! I’ve never seen anyone move like that before!”  
The tall man had lowered his rifle and was walking towards me. In a state of mild panic I raise my free knife and hold it ready.  
“Stay back” I caution him. My voice is steady even as my mind screams in panic. Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!  
The tall man glances at the woman next to him then, at a sign of agreement I miss completely, hands her his gun and holds his hands up by his shoulders in a gesture of peace.  
“You don’t need to worry kid, we don’t want to hurt you.”  
I try to get up, but my leg buckles underneath me, pain shoots along it like lightning, making my head spin.  
“Whoa, whoa there kid. That thing got your leg pretty bad.”  
“I’m- fine.” I snarl through gritted teeth. Show no weakness, show no weakness…  
“No you’re not. Your leg’s broken.”  
“It’s- fine.”  
“Kid, we can help.”  
That pulls me up short, I haven’t yet found anything to fix a broken bone aside from time and a good splint. The desire for this new knowledge, more than anything else, is what causes me to slowly nod my head.  
“Julie, get me a stimpak.” The tall man says to the woman. She nods and runs over to open one of the Brahmin’s packs as the man approaches me slowly, not unlike you approach a wounded animal.  
“I need to look at your leg” he says gently.  
Guarded, ready to attack at any second, I nod again. He observes the damage with a slight frown on his face. The scorpion had left a deep gash, and my foot’s turned sideways.  
“Yep, that’s a break alright. Pretty nasty one too. I’m surprised you’re so quiet about it.”  
My brows met together in confusion. What would I be saying right now if I was making noise?  
“Before we can do anything, I’m gonna need to set your leg.” The tall man looks me in the eyes. “Do ya trust me kid?”  
“Not really, no.”  
He hooted with laughter. “You’re quite the careful one ain’t cha?”  
I just stare at him. I had rarely heard laughter. It seemed strange that it came from him so easily.  
“Listen, kid. I need to set your leg, it’s going to hurt like hell, but it needs to be done.” I nodded. He grabbed a hold of my foot and twisted it. My leg shrieked in protest, but I stared straight forward. Show no weakness, show no pain…  
“Well that about does it.” The tall man was frowning at me. “I have no idea how you were able to keep silent though that. I was expecting you to be screaming like a horde of demons.”  
The woman comes over now, holding a syringe. “This might sting a bit, but with what you just sat through, you’re definitely going to be able to handle it.”  
For a third time, I nod, and she presses the needle into my leg. As I watch, the cut fads until there isn’t even a scar. The pain in my leg dissolves rapidly, even the mark from the needle vanishes without a trace.  
“Can ya stand up kid?”  
I push myself to my feet, and find that they’re steady. It was almost as I had never been injured.  
“What is that stuff?”  
“Ain’t you ever seen a stimpak before?”  
“No.”  
“Oh. Well they’re used for healing, as I’m certain you’ve noticed. You make ‘em by dissolving healing powder in water and sticking it in a syringe.”  
“You mean this stuff?” I held out the tiny sack of powder that was my best medicine.  
“Yeah, that’s it. How you’ve got along without these is beyond me.”  
“I try not to get hurt. That helps.”  
The tall man hooted with laughter again.  
“Ah, you’re a smart kid, there’s no doubt about that.”  
I nodded, unsure of what to do.  
“And does this smart kid have a name?”  
I blinked “Name?”  
“Sure, your name.”  
“I don’t think I have one.”  
“No name?” the tall man was frowning again. “How do you go about with no name?”  
“I don’t normally, uh, meet a lot of people.”  
“And what about the people you do know? What do they call you?”  
“Generally girl, bitch, you ingrate, cu-“  
“You really don’t have a name do you?” the woman interrupts me.  
“That’s what I said isn’t it?”  
“Well, I’m Julie, as you may have heard a minute ago. This here’s Tom. We’re caravaneers heading to Novac.”  
“Novac?”  
“Ya really don’t get out much huh?”  
“I get out plenty!” I was outside right now wasn’t I?  
“Not far though. And not around other people.”  
“I… I prefer being alone.”  
“Fair enough kid. But I’m wondering where you’ve been living if you’ve never heard of Novac.”  
“I live with my mother and brother.”  
“Just you three?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well where did you come from?”  
“What?”  
“If it’s just the three of you, and not a whole town you can’t’ve been living there for your whole lives. Well, you mighta. But your mother would’ve had to’ve moved in at some point.”  
“I don’t know, and I’ve never really thought about it.”  
The tall man, Tom, sighs through his nose and put his hands in his pockets. “Well, we best be moving on. So long kid.” He starts to turn away.  
“Wait.”  
“Yeah kid?”  
“Don’t go that way.” What am I doing? My mother would kill me if she knew about this.  
“That’s what they said back at the last town too. But why?”  
“My mother will see you. She shoots any intruders she sees. Or else has us do it.”  
Tom whistled. “That’s some grade-A paranoia right there. Not everyone’s out to getcha.”  
“She doesn’t care.”  
“Well, I’m glad to’ve bumped into ya kid. Ya might’ve saved our hides twice today.”  
“So… bye I guess?”  
“Bye kid. Look out for radscorpions.”

The scorpion was a welcome addition to our stores. The questions raised by Tom and Julie were less welcome. I couldn’t discuss those two with anyone, not even my brother. But I could tell him about the questions they left burning in my mind.

“Where do you think we came from?”  
“How do you mean? We’re from here, lived here all our lives.”  
“But what about before that? Where did out mother come from?”  
“She’s from here too.”  
“She can’t have always lived here though. What about her mother. Where’s she?”  
This pulls my brother up short. “We don’t know do we? And we can’t ask her.”  
“Not unless you want another week without food.”  
“Then it’s probably better not to think about it. Come on. This water isn’t going to fetch itself.”

It was my brother’s mantra, something that he repeated to me, or perhaps to himself, when I asked anything difficult. Best not to think about it. It could get us in trouble. She wouldn’t like it. Best not to think about it. However my questions seemed to have stirred a seed of curiosity in him. But he kept it to himself, not trusting me with his thoughts, probably didn’t even trust himself with them. The seed of curiosity in him grew and grew, until he did what I had been thinking about for years.

I was fifteen when my brother ran away.

I had often thought about it, running off, but I never could. If I were gone my brother would have to face my mother’s trials on his own. My brother, the one person in the world I felt any sort of attachment to, even if that attachment was only formed because of our shared pain. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone with our mother.

But he could bear the thought of leaving me.

I had been hunting again. As I walk into our cave, hands empty once again, I notice something unusual. My mother is pacing, the cold manner that’s the norm for her straining almost to breaking point, her face was perfectly blank until she turns to me, then it warped itself into an expression of rage that makes my stomach churn.

“So, you little brat, what happened to your brother?”  
I give her a confused look. My brother rarely strays far from the cave. It’s his sanctuary as much as the wilderness is mine.  
“Don’t look at me like that girl. Just answer the question.”  
“I don’t know what you mean. He was here last time I saw him.”  
My mother points to my brother’s sleeping area. Its blankets are gone, leaving nothing but a bare patch of dirt.  
“He took a shotgun and four knives too. Not to mention the food he stole.”  
“I don’t know where he’s going. He never discussed it with me.”  
My mother stood up. Eyes cold as the grave. “I don’t believe you.”  
I swallow nervously.  
“You talk all the time. When fetching water and wood, when cooking food. He told you something. The only thing I want to know is why you didn’t tell me.”  
“I don’t know what he’s doing.”  
My mother stalks towards me, her bare feet silent against the dirt floor. My heart hammers as she stands before me a moment, then skips a beat, fear overtaking my body as she hits me across the face.  
“Where is he going?”  
“I don’t know!”  
She hits me again. “What is he doing?”  
“I don’t know okay!? I don’t know.”  
“Then take a guess.”  
I wipe my nose. I won’t cry here. Can’t. Crying will make it worse. Think. “We’ve been having problems with supplies for a long time right?”  
She nods slowly.  
“What if he’s looking into expanding our territory?”  
“Why didn’t he tell me what he was doing then?”  
“Would you have let him go?”

She pauses. _Please believe me. Please please please._ “No, I wouldn’t have. But why would he run off like that? He knows that I’ll have to punish him for it.”  
“This is about survival. If we don’t get food, we’ll die. He could have decided that punishment would be worth it.”  
“Fair enough. When he gets back I’ll let him off lightly.” She turns to walk away, but pauses for a second, looking back at me like I’m dirt beneath her feet. “Oh, and don’t get any ideas about running off.”

A hot miserable feeling settles in my belly as I watch her cross the room. I know my brother hadn’t gone looking for new hunting grounds. And as much as I want to believe the lie that he hasn’t abandoned me, he _had_ left me, and now I was alone with my mother.

Days pass, and as I expected, there’s no sign of my brother. I try my best to keep my mother calm. I tell her whatever lies I think she’ll believe. He must have gone further afield than we had anticipated, he’s overburdened with new resources he’s collected as proof. Just wait and he’ll be back before you know it. But even with all my efforts she grows restless, talks about tracking him down. I know that I can’t keep her convinced for much longer.  
I have to go too. Before she finds some way to blame this all on me.  
One night, just before dawn. I creep about the cave. Picking up this and that. An old canteen, a compass, seven knives, hidden in my clothes, a pistol and the last of its ammo. I fill the canteen in the spring near our cave, tie enough food to last me a few days in my blankets, and then I set off into the unknown.


	2. First Steps

I choose to walk north. I walk and walk until the sun is high in the sky. My stomach growls at me, but I ignore it. I know how long I can go without food, much longer than this, and want to make what I have last. I walk past ruined buildings, past dozens of plants. I walk until I see something strange, something I’ve never seen before. There’s a stripe on the ground. A big wide band, running as far as I can see. As I puzzle over what it might be I hear a clanging noise off in the distance. Before I even realise what I’m doing I begin to scramble for cover, but I pause at the edge of a bunch of rocks before I dive behind them. I’ll probably die out here anyway, so I might as well see what’s coming. If it’s something friendly, I could even get help.

It takes a long time, but I finally see an oddly familiar shape on the horizon. It’s a pack Brahmin, like the one Tom and Julie had. I don’t move from the rock pile I’m hiding behind. But I do relax somewhat. Even though initiating contact goes against everything I’ve been taught I know that this might be my only chance for a proper life, and if the people with this caravan are anything like Tom and Julie, I’m in luck. As the Brahmin and its guides approach, I step out into their path.

“Excuse me” I say to the woman leading the Brahmin as politely as I can, ignoring the instincts hammered into me that scream _run_.  
She smiles warmly at me, settling a few of my fears. “Hi. Are you looking to trade?”  
“No, I just need directions. I don’t have much knowledge of this area.”  
“What are you looking for?”  
“I’m not too sure. Somewhere with people I guess. It doesn’t matter where.”  
“Well, we’re heading to Boulder City. Why don’t you come with us? A caravan needs guards, and the more we have, the better.”  
I fix a smile on my face. It feel tight, unnatural. But I need her to know how much her offer means to me. “Thank you so much.”  
“Boulder City is about a day’s travel that way.” She points down the stripe. “If you’re a guard, you’ll be getting paid. How does fifty caps up front sound, with another fifty on arrival?”  
I frown slightly. Caps? What were they? The woman takes my confusion for displeasure. “You drive a hard bargain kid. How does seventy five on arrival sound?”  
“Sure, I’ll take it.”  
“Hang on Lillian.” The other woman says. “What makes you think this kid can even handle being a guard? She doesn’t look like much.”  
“She’s alive isn’t she? And look at her. She’s obviously been living wild. You don’t get a lot of unskilled people living off the land.”  
“I still don’t like it. She’s so young.”  
Lillian sighs. “Can you draw your knife please?”  
I do as she asks. The two women look me over. Lillian’s deep, dark eyes twinkling in her brown face as a smile plays on her lips. “You see Mary. Perfect form. She knows what she’s doing.”  
Mary sighs. “You’re right, as usual. Welcome aboard girlie.”  
Lillian turns her smile towards me. “So, you know our names. But what do we call you?”  
I give one of the only names I knew. “I’m Julie.”  
“Nice to have you with us Julie. Shall we get going?”  
“Hang on Lillian.” Mary interjects. “I don’t know how well the folks in Boulder City are going to react to this girl.”  
I look down at myself, but there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Same leather vest, same arms and legs. But then I look at the two women and realise how different we are. While my hair was matted and filled with years’ worth of dust and mud, theirs was short and while dirty, untangled. While I wore the armour I had built over years of salvaging parts, they wore dusty pants and shirts. My feet were bare, theirs had boots.  
“They’ll deal with her. They’re not too fussed if you’ve got caps.”  
“But you can clean me up if you want. I’m looking for a fresh start. Why not change how I look?”  
Mary grins. “We’ll need to trim your hair.”

They cut away the matted hair on my head. It felt strangely weightless afterwards. I keep running my hands over the brown fuzz that’s the only thing left of the wild snarls that once weighed me down, struggling to get used to the feeling. Mary puts away her scissors. “Your clothes are fine really, and I honestly would love to get some armour as good as yours. But you might want something on your feet.”  
“I’ve never had anything like that before.”  
“It’ll take a bit of getting used to then, but your feet will be much better protected.”  
“What have you got?”  
In reply, Mary pulls a pair of boots out of one of the Brahmin’s packs. “These look about your size. You’ll also need…” she pulls out a pair of socks with a flourish. I took them. “How do I put them on?” I ask her.

Feet heavy, head curiously light, we set out for Boulder City. I have a destination and money in my pocket for the first time in my life. While I’m worried about what my future may hold, I have, for the present moment, a plan. The caravaneers can tell that I want to keep my past to myself, so as we walked along the stripe I learnt about the world instead. We’re walking on a road. They’re pathways from place to place, if you follow them you won’t get lost and will have a much safer journey because the NCR makes an effort to keep them from being overrun by bandits or wild animals.  
“NCR? I’ve never heard of them.”  
“You must’ve been living under a rock or something. The NCR have been everywhere for the past year.”  
“Well, I was living in a cave actually.” Both women laughed. There was something of a skill to talking to people it seemed.  
“The NCR is the New California Republic. They’re something of a hot topic to most people. They’ll keep your town safe but they’ll make you pay for the privilege. They’re also getting somewhat underfunded and overextended, so there’s not always enough to go round.”  
I process this new information, but something is bothering me. “What’s a California?”

I’m still pretty uncomfortable, but also really beginning to enjoy making people laugh.

The town we’re heading to, Boulder City, gradually appears through the dusty air. I’ve never seen a town before, so while others may have found it an unimpressive sight, I’m utterly enthralled. Everything is so alive. The voices of more people than I’ve ever met ring out, greeting each other, complaining, joking, fighting. Everything moves too. People walk from building to building, as quickly or slowly as they please. Dust swirls in the air where their feet disturb it. Mary points to a nearby building as Lillian counts out my caps. “That’s the Big Horn Saloon over there. Why don’t you have a drink with us? It’s on me.” I agree, not wanting to be abandoned in a place such a far cry from where I came from.

The saloon is dimly lit and full of noise. A group of men in dusty overalls sing drunkenly by the bar. Mary pushes past them and waves at the barkeeper. “Ike! Get us whiskey. We’ve been walking for days and are thirsty as hell.”  
Ike grins as he pull the bottles out from under the bar. “Mary, Lillian. Always a pleasure to see you in town. Did you bring me anything I can sell? We’re starting to run low on Nuka-Cola. I’ll pay well for a few bottles.”  
“We have a whole crate of them.” Lillian smiles. “But we’ve already got a buyer.”  
Ike snorts at that. “Bet I have more caps though.”  
“Maybe you do. But you don’t always want to buy from us.”  
“Tch. Guess I’m stuck waiting.” He glances at me. “Who’s your friend?”  
“Her name’s Julie. She needed to get somewhere and a caravan only has too many guards when you can’t pay them and still turn a profit from your goods.”  
“Where you from Julie?”  
I kick at the bar. “I’d rather not talk about it to be honest. I left and I’m not going back.”  
Ike shakes his head. “Looking to begin again, huh?”  
“Yeah.” A thought strikes me. “That happen often?”  
“Probably. But people don’t often pass through here until they’re a bit more settled into their new lives.”  
“Where do they go?”  
Mary glancs at me. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”  
“Of course I have a plan!”  
“And your plan is?”  
“Find people. Preferably the type that don’t want to kill me.”  
The entire group chuckles a bit. “Julie.” Lillian smiles. “The only people that you can consistently count on to not kill you are the Followers.”  
“Cave.” I say, pointing at myself.  
“Oh right! The Followers of the Apocalypse are a group that are more or less dedicated to helping the people. They teach, provide medical aid, all the good stuff.”  
I take a sip of whiskey, and immediately start spluttering. “Where can I find them?” I wheeze.  
After the laughter dies down, Ike pulls an old, crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. “Let me see.” He murmurs to himself, tracing his finger along the rows of writing. “Its July now-“  
“August.” Mary corrects him.  
“Yeah, August right. They should actually be in town next week if that’s the case.”  
“What am I supposed to do until then?”  
“Tell ya what. If you can find me six bottles of Nuka-Cola, You can stay here at the saloon while you’re waiting for them. We have plenty of rooms for rent.”  
By my side, Lillian nods and Mary gives me a thumbs up.  
“It seems like a good deal.” I agree.  
After an amusing episode of me spluttering through as much whiskey as I could handle before Mary took the bottle from me and drained the lot, I walk outside the saloon with her and Lillian. They walk arm in arm, singing some song about a man counting his heartaches or something. As they turn towards their Brahmin, which is looking rather nonplussed at all the noise, Mary whispers something to Lillian who laughs and nods in agreement. I smile at them, confused at their light-heartedness. Was this what people were really like? So kind? So different to my mother? To me? Where did my training fit? Where did fighting and killing fit?  
Where did I fit?

It was all very good to play a part. But in that moment, I realise that was all it was. I can smile at strangers and make them laugh as much as I want, but that was never going to change what my mother had shaped me into.

A killer. A dangerous animal.

I feel sick. For the first time in my life, I’m disgusted with myself. _What are you girl? Where do you fit? What on earth can you do in a place like this?_ I swallow back the bile that rises in my throat and place my hand against a nearby wall to steady myself. _What are you?_ I shake my head like a dog to clear it. I can worry about this later. There will be plenty of time. One thing at a time. I have to get those drinks. There will be downtime to worry about the world and my place in it when I have a safe place to sleep. Nuka-Cola, then worry. I take several deep breaths to calm myself, and walk as steadily as I can over to the caravaneers. They smile and wave at my approach.

“Hey Julie! Know where you’re staying tonight?”  
“I’ll find somewhere. I don’t need to sleep comfy.”  
“You’re part of our caravan right now. Come camp with us!”  
“I- I don’t know.”  
“Awww, come on. We’re not leaving you to wander around on your own for the night. You’re pissed as a newt.”  
“I’m- what Mary?”  
“Drunk, it means drunk.”  
“I feel fine.”  
“You can hardly speak.”  
Can’t I? Nothing seems wrong to me.  
“Julie.” Lillian says gently. “We want you to be safe.”  
“Yeah! And if you get yourself hurt then Tom-” Mary stops rapidly when she catches a glimpse of the warning look on Lillian’s face.  
“Tom?” My heart sounds in my ears like a drum. “How do you know Tom?”  
“He runs our Caravan Company.” Mary seems defeated.  
“And how do you know me?”  
Lillian takes my hand and leads me toward the Brahmin. There she sits down and patsthe ground beside her. “Sit, you aren’t steady.” I comply, with Mary following and sitting as well.

“As caravaneers, we pick up a lot of stories. The good ones can get us cheap drinks if we’re lucky. Tom came across a story that kept him in free drink from the day he started telling it. He told stories of a wild girl with no name that moved so fast you couldn’t see her. He told us of her fear. Of the way she spoke of her mother.” Lillian was watching me carefully, so she could not miss the unmistakable flash of pain on my face. “Tom isn’t the most reliable source of information. He loves tall tales too much. But this time he had a witness, and she’s not any sort of liar.”  
“Julie” I breathe.  
“Yes. Julie backed up his story, and wild as it seemed, we believed him. A lot of us keep a careful lookout when travelling near your patch of land. We aren’t entirely sure of the boundaries your mother enforces, and none of us want to be killed. As you can imagine, the tale spread rapidly. There’s hardly anybody that passes through a Saloon that hasn’t heard about you and your family. Not all of them believe it, and even fewer remember it, stories wear out fast after all, but they’ve all heard it. When I saw you on the road I knew. You matched the description Tom gave perfectly. Taken with that, the name Julie was a bit of a giveaway. We owe you. If Tom had died out there then we would’ve been out of a job, and we have family of our own to support.”  
“You mighta known the moment you saw her.” Mary interjects “But I didn’t think so. I mean, it’s not every day a legend comes waltzing up to your caravan. And we gave you a job! How weird is that?”  
“I wouldn’t know.” I reply miserably. “Legends weren’t really what my education focused on.”  
“I figured that we may as well help you along. Nobody’s going to mind, we’re well within our rights to hire extra guards if we want.” Lillian grins at me. “And now we have a story that’ll get us cheap drinks too. Like Mary said, legends don’t often cross our paths.”  
My head spins. “Why are you telling me all this?”  
Lillian just shrugs “Why not? You did ask after all.”  
“Why keep it from me then?”  
“If you’re lying about your origins there’s a good chance there’s a reason. We don’t know what caused you to leave your family, but we’re willing to bet it wasn’t good.”  
“I don’t want to discuss it. Not yet.”  
Lillian is nodding, allowing me to keep my thoughts to myself. “That’s fair enough. But you can’t run from your past, not forever. It can run for longer than you can, so if you keep running you’ll be going nowhere useful, and getting nothing but tired.”  
“I’ll bear that in mind.”  
“You left. And you approached us, which leads me to believe you want a different life even before you said so. You’re surprisingly charming for someone that’s been living in fear their entire existence. You could convince me that the world was flat if you put your mind to it.”  
“You mean it isn’t?”  
“What did your education focus on if you were taught that the world was flat?” Mary asks.  
“I wasn’t taught, I just assumed…” I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, though weather it’s from embarrassment or rage I can’t tell.  
“Oh. Nobody ever took the time to explain anything to you did they?”  
“I know plenty of things.” Like the fact that I was pissed off right now for example. “I can fight with just about anything. I can pick locks and heal wounds.”  
“Unless Tom exaggerated, you didn’t know what a stimpak was.”  
“There are other ways to heal, even if you don’t know them.”  
“Stop fighting you two! I need to finish my story!”  
“Sorry Lillian.” We murmur in unison.  
“The Followers isn’t a bad start, but you need a long term plan. Otherwise the people out here are going to chew you up and spit you out. You can fight, try starting there. Caravans are always hiring. There’s also some risky places that people will pay for guards in. There are a few stores that hire people to protect them. These are all good places to start.”  
My heart lifts somewhat. Perhaps I wasn’t as ill-suited to this life as I thought.  
“But you are hardly a horrible person to be around, as I said earlier.” Lillian continues. “Work on that. Soon you might be able to open a store or enter some kind of partnership. It could also help people open up to you, get you into communities and let you find work there. You have strengths, find them and work with them.”  
“I don’t know how things work out here. How can my strengths make up for that?”  
“I won’t lie to you, you’re going to screw up again and again. You just need to make sure to learn from these mistakes. You know how to fight, so mistakes don’t need to be the end of you. Your weak points are just as important as your strengths so get to know them. Work on them.”  
I think about that for a while. “But can’t I just stay with you?”  
A sad smile spreads across Lillian’s face. “You need to find your own path. We’re the first people you met, not the best. If we meet again on the road or in a saloon somewhere and you want to join up again, then we’ll be glad to take you, but first you need to see all your options.”  
“I guess that makes sense, but-“  
“No buts.” Mary interrupts. “It’s getting late, are you going to camp with us?”  
I look at them. They’ve both done so much for me, why not? Why shouldn’t I trust them? But no matter how many times I repeat this mantra to myself it doesn’t seem real. This was not what I’ve learnt to expect. People are dangerous, even the people you know might damage you. Strangers are worse. I realise that Lillian and Mary were looking at me, waiting for an answer.

“Alright.” I reply, only realising what I’ve said a second later.

I want to backtrack, but Lillian’s calm, steady smile, and Mary’s huge grin stop me. They’re not going to hurt me. They’re not.  
Perhaps I’ll eventually believe it.  
Lillian gets to her feet, and extends a hand toward me “Then let’s go and get the tent set up.”  
I take her hand after a moment’s hesitation. Even if I don’t fully trust these two, I’ll sleep easier knowing that I’m near what could be friends. Mary pulls a face as Lillian helps me up.  
“Why is she getting help? I’m suddenly not pretty enough for you?”  
“When you’re pulling that face?” Mary sticks out her tongue in reply and scrambles to her feet.

The tent was a mystery to me, but eventually, we manage to get it set up. It’s full dark by the time we roll inside. I stare at the fabric above me for hours as Mary snores loudly. My first night on my own, even though I was sharing a space. My throat burns as tears well up in my eyes. Everything’s so different, I think as I drift off, but I can make it work. I have to.

The next morning I wake to a new smell. Something meaty and warm that mingles with the smoke from the campfire and makes my mouth water. I roll out of the tent to see Mary cooking something in a pot. She looks up at the sound of my entrance and smiles.  
“Morning sleepy-head. How ya doin’?”  
“Fine, kinda. What’s that smell?”  
“Breakfast. Want some?”  
My stomach growls, but I shake my head. “I’m good. I’ve got my own food.”  
“Suit yourself.” She replies with a shrug. “All the more for me and Lillian.”  
I sit next to her, awkwardly folding my legs under myself and tugging a chunk of bloatfly out of the bag around my waist. Mary wrinkles her nose at the sight of it.  
“No.”  
“What?”  
“No.” she repeats, dishing food into a bowl. “You’re not eating bugs, not while we’re looking after you.”  
“Mary, I can’t take your food.”  
Her only reply is to hold out the bowl. I take the food she offers me. It smells amazing, far better than meat being smoked so we can store it. “What’s in it?” I ask.  
“Some beans, jalapenos, Brahmin meat. Are you going to keep asking questions or are you going to eat?”  
The food smells really good. My hands tremble slightly as I raise a blob of it to my mouth.  
Holy shit it tastes good too. I’ve not eaten anything like this before. Mary grins at the look on my face.  
“It takes a little longer to make than that dried crap, but it’s so much better.”  
I nod, frantically cramming the hot stew into my mouth. It burns me but I don’t care. The bowl empties far too soon. I gaze at the food still in the pot, wanting it. Mary notices my stare, and her grin grows to an impossible size.  
“Glad you like it so much, but you can’t have anymore. Let me and Lillian eat too okay?”  
“Will there be any left?” I ask her desperately.  
“Maybe, Lillian isn’t a big eater.”  
I glance towards the tent as Mary narrows her eyes.  
“If you want to wake her up,” she says with an evil smirk, “Let’s have some fun with it.”

The tent shivers as we ease the door open a millimetre at a time. Lillian’s hair flutters over her mouth as she snores. Forward we ease, Mary stepping over her sleeping form and crouching by her side. I follow her example and sink to Lillian’s other side. Mary’s mouth tilts upwards as she holds up three fingers, then two, and finally one.  
“HOWDY PARD’NER!” We scream at the tops of our lungs.  
Lillian shoots out of bed as fast as a rocket, shrieking like metal on metal. She flails about, tangled in her blankets. Mary falls backwards, roaring with laughter, until Lillian hits one of the tent’s poles and it falls like a house of cards in a dust storm. Confused, laughing, we struggle out into the sunlight. Once we had all liberated ourselves Lillian shoots me a dirty look.  
“I expected Mary to do something like this, but I honestly expected better from you.”  
I bite my lip and look to the ground. “I’m sorry Lillian.” I say in a small voice.  
“Hey, look at me.” I drag my eyes to meet Lillian’s own, and find her gaze surprisingly soft.  
“I’m sorry.” I repeat in a near-whisper as my voice breaks.  
“Don’t be.” Lillian’s voice is gentle, yet firm. “It was a harmless joke.”  
“But you were angry-“  
“No, I was kidding. Don’t worry about it.”  
“But-“  
“You’re upset, I should have realised that you’d be upset when you thought I was getting mad. I’m not mad, and I apologise for not thinking.”  
“It was my idea anyway.” Lillian interjects. “If anybody’s gonna get yelled at its me.”  
Lillian’s eyes turn catlike. “I should have known.”  
“Yes, you must always be on your guard around me. You have paid the price for your carelessness fool!”  
“We shall see dear one. If you are inattentive then I plan to repay you in kind.”  
“You will never have the chance my delicate flower. I am ever vigilant.”  
Mary pulls Lillian close, smiling. But Lillian looks over her shoulder to me. “Are you going to be okay?” she asks.  
I nod, more concerned about the food now that I know I’m not in trouble. Mary knows this somehow and glances towards the pot.  
“Aw hell.” She breathes. “Just eat it. Eat all of it if you’re really that hungry.”  
This is all the encouragement I need, so I start serving myself as Lillian pulls Mary away. “Give me a few minutes Mary,” She smiles. “And you won’t be calling me delicate.”

They return hand in hand as I’m finishing the last of the stew, their hair messy and their faces flushed. I wave to them as I lick the last of the food off its plate, but they don’t see me. They’re too busy smiling at each other. I stretch out and put down what’s left of my meal while they wander towards the fire. They only break eye contact when they reach me, when Lillian looks over to the empty pot, then she’s laughing again.  
“You really were hungry.” She observes through giggles. “I’m not sure what the hell we’ll be doing for food now though.”  
“Ah, we’ve got dried stuff. We’re fine.” Mary says as she moves towards their Brahmin’s packs, lying abandoned next to the wreckage of the tent.  
“I’ve can give you some of my food if you need it.”  
“No. Sorry, but I’m not nearly brave enough to eat that.”  
“It’s not that bad Mary.”  
“I don’t care.”  
“Think of it as part of your pay.” Lillian interjects. “We’ve hired guards before, fed them too.”  
“It’s not going to cause you trouble?”  
“Relax, if we start running low on food then we’ll begin trade early.”  
I scratch the back of my head, just wanting to get what I need to get my room at the saloon. When I voice my plans the caravaneers are make me an offer.  
“We can give you the Nuka if you want.”  
A frown crosses my face as I try to square this with what they had told Ike yesterday. “Didn’t you say that you already had a buyer?”  
“We do, but this is from our personal supplies.”  
“Is that okay?”  
“It is with me, what do you think Mary?”  
Rather than speaking her thoughts, Mary pulls a bottle of Nuka-Cola out of the pack she’s leaning on.

Holding the drinks tight, we race each other to the Big Horn. Ike glances up from the glass he’s wiping as I burst through the door, the caravaneers following close behind. “It seems you have the drinks.” He smiles as I place the first bottle on the bar. “Your room’s the first on the left upstairs. Feel free to head up at any time.” This small trade complete, Ike returns to the glass.  
The room isn’t much, just a bed and a dresser, but it’s more than I’ve ever had to myself. I dump my bundle of blankets on the bed and turn towards the door to face the caravaneers.

“Thank you.” I mean these words with every fibre of my soul. “I don’t know where I’d be without you two.”  
Their faces seem to glow as they smile at me. “Awwww.” Mary says, almost crying. “Come here.”  
She wraps her arms around me, face buried in my shoulder. We stand together for a moment, then Lillian joins us, holding the both of us tight. I’ll never be able to say how long we stand there, silent, yet saying all that we need to. Finally Lillian releases us. I pretend not to notice her red eyes, or the damp patch where Mary’s face was moments before. “I’m gonna miss you guys.” My voice sounds broken.  
“We’ll miss you too.” Mary is still smiling, but it looks different somehow. Maybe it’s her eyes.  
“Are you leaving now?”  
“No sense putting it off. This was only ever meant to be an overnight stop.”  
“Have a safe trip, okay you two?”  
Lillian swallows as fresh tears well up in her eyes. “I promise.”  
“I’m coming down. I want to stay with you guys as long as I can.”  
“Yeah,” Mary agrees. “No telling when we’ll be seeing you again.”


	3. A Better Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of violence in this one, so be warned.

Boulder City is just as busy as yesterday, but I’ve never felt more alone. Not even when my brother left me. Mary and Lillian were gone, I’d watched them until they vanished, blocked from my view by a hill. In my hands, I hold their final gift to me.

“It’s a book of names.” Lillian explained. “We’ve been carrying it with us for a long time, but nobody really cares.”  
I turned it over, drinking in every detail, every tear and stain on the blue cover, every curve of the symbols on the front.  
“What’s a book?”  
“Oh. I should have known that you wouldn’t be able to read.”  
“So, what is it?”  
“A book is information.” Lillian said. “If you can read then you can have access to it. Don’t worry too much, the Followers will teach you if you ask. They’ve taught loads of people.”

I head back to my room, and I stare at the ceiling. It feels stupid, I barely knew them and they’ll forget about me in a day or two anyway, but I miss my new friends.

The days crawl by. With nothing to occupy my time I often find myself wandering the town or lying in my room. The book sits on my dresser, useless to me right now. It’s an extraordinary relief when I wake one morning to the sound of Ike banging on my door. I roll out of bed and let him in.

“What’s going on?” I ask him through yawns.  
“The Followers are here. Time to pack up your stuff.”  
I nod, turning to gather my few possessions and wrap them in my blankets. When I get downstairs Ike is talking to a tired looking man with greying hair and a dusty white coat. I head in their direction.

“Hey Julie!” I start, I’d almost forgotten that I’d given that name. “This is Andrew Hernandez, from the Followers. I was letting him know that you need their help.”  
“Call me Andy.” The man’s voice is deep. “We’re here for the rest of today to survey the town. Can you do anything to help?”  
“I could probably carry stuff.” I was feeling very small all of a sudden. “I don’t really know what you’re doing here though.”  
“We’re looking at resources. Water, food, that type of thing. That way we know where to send aid.”  
I start to feel a bit better. “I know what areas with water look like.”  
“That means you’re on my team.” Andy seems less than thrilled about it. “Come on kid, let’s get to work.”

Any worries that Andy may have had about my competence were relieved by midday, by then I had found an underground spring nobody else had spotted. The team was laughing, patting each other’s backs and discussing anything and everything, I was just glad that I had something to do after days of nothing. The sun is just over the horizon as Andy calls the team over. “Alright folks. We’ve done a good day’s work, so it’s time to head back. We should all be proud of ourselves. Now let’s hit the road.”

I’m surprised at the distance we managed to cover. It seems that we won’t make it back before night falls. We hurry through the gathering gloom, heading for the safety of the town as the desert turns cold and dark, but we are not alone. It’s difficult to sense them now that I’m walking with others, the warning noises drowned out by breathing and talking. The subtle sound of crunching sand under a boot lost in the sounds of human life that I never learnt to filter out. The guard dogs in my head barked no warning until I saw a shadowy figure approaching the outskirts of our group. The figure raises its hands, and I hear a faint but unmistakable click.

There’s no time to think, adrenaline rushes through my veins as I hit the ground. It’s barely a second later that the first shot rings out. The ground spits dust as the hills come alive with shots and screams, it’s impossible to tell who’s screaming but I have an idea that it’s not the attackers. My heart hammers as I close my hand around my pistol, already loaded, and switch the safety off. The first shape I shoot at falls to the ground twitching, and I’m only able to fire three more shots before I hit the ground again. A spray of bullets rip through the air where I was standing just heartbeats ago. I roll, wanting to put some distance between myself and the attackers. My gun leaps up and trains it’s self on the head of a stocky man covered in dust and old bloodstains that nearly trips over me, but before I can fire and send him toppling to the ground he looks he dead in the eye, raising his own gun as he growls “Drop your weapon.”

I do, it takes a second to realise it, but I follow what he says. There is only room in my mind for one thought as I half-lie in front of him with empty hands.

_What in God’s name did you do that for you idiot?_

As luck will have it, my opponent is just as surprised as I am. His finger hesitates over the trigger and the shot that would have blown my head clean off instead grazes my ear as I spring forward and tackle him around his knees. All the breath is driven out of him as we land and I take advantage of this by jamming my fist into his throat to distract him for a few precious seconds to give me time to draw one of my knives. He’s still choking and breathless as I slit his throat.

Finally I have time to draw breath. There are shouts in the distance as shadows run as fast as their legs can carry them. It takes me a few moments to realise that the ambush has failed. Members of Andy’s team are scattered all around. Some of them moan in pain, others are disturbingly silent.

“People.” Andy’s voice cracks like a whip. “Anybody in good enough condition, find someone injured and help them. We’ll get proper aid back in town.” With that he turns and begins checking on his comrades. There’s a moment of stillness before everyone scrambles to do the same.

It’s not far now, but the walk is much more difficult with a wounded woman hanging off my shoulder, growing heavier with each step. The lights of the town envelop us bit by bit as we approach, and I nearly cry at their welcoming glow. Members of the Followers rush to great us and tend to the injured. The woman I’m carrying is lifted off me as she murmurs her thanks in between pained cries. The doctors work quickly, assessing damage, calling for assistance. One of them grabs my head, ignoring my half-hearted cry of protest, to examine my ear. I’m taken care of in minutes, the doctor bustling off to attend to others as soon as possible.

While the wound to my body may have been a simple matter the toll taken on my mind was not so easily remedied. I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Why had I dropped my gun? There wasn’t any reason for it. It was pure luck that I hadn’t gotten myself killed. I shake off the feeling of darkness that clings to me. There must be something more useful I could be doing right now, but every doctor waves me away as I approach them. After several fruitless minutes a hand lands on my shoulder making me flinch away.

“Sorry.” It’s Andy, limping backwards a step as he speaks. “I’m just checking up on everyone.”  
“I’m okay. All I really got was a little scratch.”  
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He has a far gentler expression than I’ve seen him wearing so far today.  
“If you have questions, ask them.”  
“I wasn’t able to keep track of everyone in the fight, what happened to you?”  
He didn’t know then. He had no idea about my failure. “I shot one guy, had to use my knife on another one.”  
“How you holding up?”  
“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at my answer. “I’m fine! Really Andy!”  
“It’s okay not to be.”  
“But I am.”  
Andy rolls his neck, a ghost of the look of tiredness he wore when I met him this morning returning to his face. “Okay then. But if you want to talk later you can feel free to come to me. I learnt how to help people through trauma.”  
“Thanks.” I nod a farewell. Understanding that I won’t be saying any more, he turns and leaves.

Most people weren’t too badly injured in the attack. But others cannot be saved. I catch a glimpse of a bearded man with lifeless eyes before they cover him with a sheet. The image brands it’s self into my brain for some reason, and try as I might I cannot get his face out of my head. He looks so small without life inside him, defenseless even though he is past hurting. The sudden urge to move overcomes me, and my legs are working double time, running to nowhere as the cold night wind rushes over my scalp and tears at my clothes. Time slips away. All that’s left is the burn in my legs, the thud of my feet on the ground, the embrace of the wind, and the moon watching over me. I run without slowing until my legs give out under me, then I lie where I fall, gasping for air.

I could stay here, just lie in the desert until I turn to dust. There wouldn’t be anyone that would actually miss me. My mother would never let me back now, she probably hates me even more. My brother abandoned me, he’d never know. Mary and Lillian had to go, they’d be sad but who’ll tell them what happened? They’d never know, would they? Oh God I miss them. What would they do if they were here? I picture Mary standing over me wearing her trademark grin.

“What are you doing down there?” I imagine her saying. “You’re meant to be with the Followers. We didn’t give you all our stuff so you could walk out on them.”  
I let out a sigh, it’s true. Those two seemed to want the best for me. But I can’t go back with that lifeless face still swimming behind my eyelids.  
I picture Lillian now. “You’ll be okay.” I can almost hear her calm soothing voice. “Talk to Andy, he knows this stuff.”  
“I can’t.” I whisper out loud.  
“Yes you can. You don’t need to tell him about your past if you don’t want to.”  
“I can’t talk to him.”  
“You’re talking to me.”  
“I’m imagining talking to you.”  
“Fair point.”  
“Even if you’re not going to talk to him.” Mary would interrupt here, “you can’t lie here forever.”  
“Why not? There’s nowhere right for me anymore.”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“I don’t know what to do out here.” It’s liberating to say it out loud. “People are so different and I get all confused. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dead body or been in a fight before but my reactions are all wrong…”  
“Newsflash sad sack.” Mary would laugh here, and Lillian might glare at her. “Nobody out here knows what we’re doing.”  
“You don’t know who you are, you never had the chance to find out.” Lillian’s voice would be a near whisper as she tried to soothe me, to stop the tears that were building up behind my eyes.  
“Do I want to know?”  
“I think you do.”  
I sigh. It’s all true, every last word. Strange way to come about this information though. Dust falls from my clothes as I stand to make my way back to the lights of town.

To my surprise, my disappearance had not gone unnoticed. Andy calls out to me as I walk by him. “Where have you been?” he asks me when I turn to face him. “One of the doctors said you just took off all of a sudden.”  
“I needed some time alone. I h-had a bad reaction to something.”  
“Do you want to talk to me?”  
“I guess.”  
Andy doesn’t pressure me. We sit in silence as I gather my thoughts and my courage.  
“I saw a dead man after we spoke before. It’s not like I’ve never seen a corpse before, but for some reason I freaked out.”  
“Can you think of any reason you might have reacted the way you did?”  
I twisted my hands in my lap. “No, I can’t.”  
“That’s okay. These things happen sometimes.”  
“Will it happen again?”  
“It’s impossible to say.” Andy replies. “But it’s likely.”  
Bad news. “How do I stop it then?”  
“It’s better if you learn how to deal after. You’ll hurt yourself hiding everything away.”  
“What use is talking if I can’t fix this?” I’m almost yelling, but Andy doesn’t seem bothered.  
“Talking makes you think.”  
“Wouldn’t it be better to just forget? To put memories where they can’t hurt you anymore?”  
He laughs, not in mean way though. “If we don’t think about the mistakes we make then how do we improve ourselves?”  
“I’ve never really thought about it.”  
There’s a moment where neither of us say anything. It’s peaceful even though the town still hums in the background.   
“What do you want from the Followers Julie?”  
In answer, I rummage through my blanket pack. “Please Andy,” I whisper, handing him the book. “Teach me how to read.”  
Andy skims through the book. I watch in awe as he speeds through the words like lightning. “Why do you have a book if you don’t know how to read?”  
“It was a gift. Can you help me?”  
“It’s what we’re here for.”

I didn’t sleep that night, even after Andy left. I was burned out, but my eyes refused to shut. My mind was frantic. Why were we attacked? What was wrong with me? What am I going to do now? My thoughts tumbled and mixed together to create an incoherent stew of worry inside my head. It’s a relief when the sun begins to peek over the horizon, calling everyone from their beds. I yawn and sit on the patch of dirt I failed to sleep on last night as I wait for the town to come alive around me. The doctors got no more sleep than me, too busy keeping the injured alive and comfortable. It’s a losing battle though, with the limited amount of medical supplies they bought along, barely enough to clean a skinned knee. Trying to block the sounds of human suffering from my mind, I wander the camp until I find Andy. He looks almost as bad as I feel, the bags under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept. He takes deep pulls of the cigarette in his hand, as though the answer to all our problems might be found if only he has smoke in his lungs. He sees me as I approach him, but he doesn’t speak, absorbed in his thoughts. We stand together, staring out over the desert. It goes on for long enough that I feel that I need to break the silence. It feels weak, but I clear my throat to get his attention. “Morning.”  
“Nice day.” He’s not wrong. The rosy light of the early dawn turns the world a blushing pink. But the beauty of the morning doesn’t do enough to wipe the worry from my mind.  
“Yeah.” I have no idea how to talk to this guy. “It’s all, pink.” Dammit.  
“Something on your mind?”  
I sigh. “People are just so hard to figure out. I don’t know what to tell them.”  
“A secret past then?” Andy’s smiling, not trying to pressure me for answers. “Sounds mysterious.”  
“It’s more…” I trail off, not sure how to describe my feelings. “Confusing.” I settle on eventually.  
“New beginnings?”  
“Pretty much.”  
“Yeah.” Andy has a rather nostalgic look on his face, like he's remembering both the best and worst moments of his life all at once. “I remember how that feels.”  
“You went out on your own?”  
“Years back, and only for a few months. I found a safe place pretty quickly.”  
“Why did you leave?” Silence hangs in the air for a second before I realise how personal my question is. “Sorry Andy.” I whisper.  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
A sigh of relief escapes me as tension I hadn’t even noticed falls from me like a blanket. It’s great that he’s not upset, but I feel the need to change the topic.  
“Who were those people that attacked us?”  
He shrugs. “There are so many bands of raiders out there that we can’t keep track of them all. Most likely they were after whatever supplies we had on us.”  
“Will they be back?”  
“Probably not. But we’ll be safe once we get back to the outpost. It’s only about an hour away, and it’s in the opposite direction.”  
This is comforting news. “Thanks Andy.”  
In reply, he nods his head, and things lapse into a peaceful silence.  
“You still want to learn to read?” Andy’s sudden question makes me jump.  
“Yeah, I do.”  
Andy takes a last pull on his cigarette before stamping it into the ground. “We’ll get started as soon as we get back then.”

We're lucky that the trip to the outpost passes without event. There’s only so much danger a person can take in a few days. It’s a tense journey, with my hand straying to my gun and over my knives every few minutes. Not to use them, just to reassure myself that they’re still within easy reach in case I need them. _And this time_ , I think to myself, _I’m going to hang on to my goddamn gun._

It’s while I’m passing my hand over my weapons for what might be the thousandth time a ramshackle building comes into view, peaking at our weary group of travellers from around a cliff. I know that it’s the outpost even before Andy tells us. My sleepless night is starting to catch up with me, so the end of our journey is a relief. The outpost isn’t very large, or very sturdy looking, but Andy’s words about it being a safe place comfort me. A group of people that wear the same white coat as Andy are lounging around the entrance of the building, smoking and talking. They glance at our tired little group as it heads for safety, uninterested until a short, pale woman spies the stitches, the limping, those that need support to walk and the few that had to be carried. The change in her is almost like the flip of a switch. One second she’s as relaxed and sleepy as the rest of the crowd, the next she’s leaping to her feet, shouting that there’s wounded out front. Everybody else follows suit, and the wounded are scooped up so quickly it’s almost like they were never there. I hesitate, uncertain of what I should be doing until Andy claps me on the shoulder.

“They’re all being taken care of now, they’ll be okay.”  
“That’s good to hear.”  
“You ready to learn to read?”  
My heart leapt. Finally. “Beyond ready.”

I'm a fast learner, or so Andy tells me, but it takes me a long time to recognise even the simplest of words. Being alone with someone for so long was a novel experience. Spending so much time with a single person isn’t new, but the intimacy of shared minds, of being treated as an equal, is a sensation that's utterly alien. Hiding my past under these circumstances is difficult, Andy makes me actually _want_ to talk despite myself. He always tries to make me think about my future, and these talks somehow always turn to my past. He always asks about my interests, my strengths, and I never have a satisfactory answer. But as Andy became a closer friend to me I began to wonder what I was hiding. Steering the conversation away from awkward topics is almost as draining as learning to read. But I can’t know what he’d do. Would he be ashamed of me because I couldn’t leave on my own? Would he tell me that I should go back? Many times I started to speak, and each time I lost my courage before I could utter a syllable. It was no good, I couldn’t go into this blind. There was no telling how Andy would react, and that’s what scared me more than anything.

So it's a relief when he starts asking the questions, taking the burden of starting the conversation off me.

“What did you run from Julie?” He asks me one day as I stumble my way through a simple story.  
“What do you mean?”  
“It’s your business, not mine, but I want to know how you wound up with the Followers.”  
“It’s okay.” Everything that happened in my life is bubbling up inside me, screaming to get out. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. It’s just...”  
Andy guesses my fears correctly “You’re worried about what I might think.” It’s a statement, not a question but I nod anyway.  
“It’s not my job to judge you.” He tells me as I bite my lip. “It’s my job to help.”  
“I haven’t had much of a chance to talk about things, or even think about them. I don’t know where to begin.”  
“Something’s been weighing on your mind for these past few weeks.” Andy has a gentle voice, one that’s used to soothing those in pain. “How about you start with that?”  
I set the book to one side, it’s pretty goddamn boring anyway, and bury my head in my hands. A tiredness falls over me, making my body grow heavy. “You remember the attack that happened when we were in Boulder City?”  
“I do.”  
“Something happened back there.” Suddenly, despite my shame, or perhaps because of it, everything comes pouring out. I almost got myself killed because I dropped my damn weapon. Throughout my tale Andy sits in silence. He allows the silence to stretch after I finish talking, but not for long.  
“You must really be doubting yourself.”   
“That’s not very helpful Andy.”  
“I know it’s not.” He agrees. “But there isn’t much I can say to help.”  
My nails are digging into my thighs as I try to stop myself shaking. “You think that I should have died back there don’t you?” My voice breaks as tears begin to gather at the corners of my eyes. I blink them back, determined not to make myself seem ever weaker.  
“No!” Andy seems shocked. “I think that you’re very brave.”  
“Brave how?” my voice is barely a whisper.  
“Brave for surviving.” Andy replies. “That is the simplest and most ignored form of bravery, continuing when it seems like hope is lost.”  
This is all very nice, but not practical at all. “Why did I drop my gun?” Answers will help, answers are solid, reliable.  
But not this time. “I don’t know.” Andy says, watching me carefully as though he thinks that I might explode.  
No risk of that though, talking has left me weary. “Guess, say something.” I plead. “I can’t leave here with nothing.”  
“I don’t know anything about the life you lived up until I met you.” Andy rubs his eyes. “Maybe it was too close to something that happened before, PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” He’s yelling suddenly, I don’t even notice myself moving as my hands leap into the air above my head.  
“Sorry Julie.” He means it too, that much it written on his face. “I needed to test if that would work.”  
“So now you know, whatever the hell it is you know, could you please tell me what’s happening?”  
“Seems to me that if somebody tells you to do something unexpectedly, you do it, regardless of what it might be.”  
I groan. “Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m a fucking joke of a person.”  
“You can work with it.”  
“By doing what? What could I possibly do where this is anything but a disadvantage?”  
“You could join the army.” Andy’s got a big stupid smile on his face, so I know that whatever he’s saying, he’s kidding, but I’m not in the mood for jokes.   
“Please be serious.”  
“Okay, so you can’t really work with it, so try working around it. I’ll give you a hand if you want.”  
“How?”

Andy outlines his plan. It seems too simple to be of any help, but I’m not really interested in arguing. He will come up to me at random times and give me an order unexpectedly, and I will try to resist the urge to obey.


	4. Start Small

It’s a few days before anything happens, giving me plenty of time to get nervous. I often find my knees bouncing when I’m sitting still, and begin to bite my nails seemingly for every second of the day and night. Finally, Andy sneaks up behind me at dinner on night, as I pick up my share of bread he leans over and says in a stern voice, “Give that here.”  
The bread is in his hands before I even know what happened. Smirking, he takes a bite and wanders off to sit with a group of scientists while I curse under my breath. I’d really wanted to eat that.

The next time I’m tested I don’t fare much better, or the next, or for many more turns. Andy keeps varying the pace, sometimes he comes after me twice in one day, but sometimes he waits a full week. It’s impossible to know when he’ll strike next, which is probably the point. He goes after my things way to often too. I honestly have no idea how he can eat all the food he steals from me. But after a time Andy gets tired of taking my food and supplies and switches to more personal targets.  
I’m sitting outside, enjoying the cooler weather of the evening as I flick through my book of names. They’re clearer now, I can even read some of the shorter ones without trouble. I’m engrossed as I stumble through the C names. Catelyn, Cecelia, Charity, Cora I stumble through, stopping and starting, unable to understand how on earth Cecelia was pronounced. Andy, as always, made his approach unnoticed. He was behind me before I even knew it, his skill in stealth made only greater by the background noise that was standard around the outpost. My skin pricked in fright as his stern voice sounded in my ear yet again. “Give me the book.”  
I half turned, and my hands were loosening on the blue cover before two realisations hit me full force. If I did not want to let go then I did not have to, and I did not want to let go of this book. This was the point of the exercise after all. It took every bit of energy in me, but I was able to pull my hands back, to tighten my grip on my gift and clutch it tight to my chest. Eyes wide, heart thundering, I stare at Andy’s waiting hands. Then I muster up the last of my strength to shake my head.  
Any leaps up with a jubilant noise, smiling so much it looks like his face is splitting in half. Startled by the sudden uproar, I tumble off the couch I was on, right onto the dusty ground, lying still and gasping for air until Andy pulls me to my feet.

“You did it!”  
It’s strange, but I find my mouth twitching upwards. Andy lifts me up in a big hug.  
“Can’t- breathe.” I gasp.  
With an apology, my feet are set back on the ground.  
“Let’s do something to celebrate!” Cries Andy as he tugs at my arm. “Let’s get something good to eat! I need to make up for all the food I stole somehow.”  
I give him a reluctant smile. “Food. Yeah.”  
“I’ve got some real special stuff.” And with that, he dashes away.  
A few moments later he returns, waving a box of something above his head. “I have cakes!”  
“Let’s have ‘em then.” So many new foods out here, might as well try as many as I can.  
I catch the package Andy tosses towards me. It’s a dirty shade of white, and my reading is just good enough to understand the red lettering. Fancy Lad Snack Cakes.  
“What’s in these?”  
Andy offers me a shrug. “Anybody that knew is long gone by now. These things are two hundred years old.”  
“Are they safe to eat?”  
“More or less.”

Not quite convinced, I wait for Andy to take a bite out of his cake before I start to eat. The cakes are chalky in texture and so sweet I nearly gag on the first bite. The second is better, but not by much. Giving up for the time being, I rest my cake on the ground.  
“Not good?” Andy asks with a worried frown.  
“No it’s fine!” I protest. “I’m just not used to food this sweet.”  
With a sigh, he sets down his own cake. “We should talk.”  
A lump rises in my throat, and I swallow in an attempt to rid myself of it. His tone is all too familiar. “You need to leave don’t you?”  
“Yeah.” Andy leans back into a comfortable position. “I’m headed west to teach at a school the Followers set up.”  
“And you wanted to say goodbye.” I’m not crying, but it’s a close thing. Perhaps later, when nobody can see me break.  
“No!” Andy grabs my hand and holds it tight. “I wanted to let you know that you can come with me if you want. Meet new people, see the west. Do you want to? The Outpost is okay, but it’s not good to stay at forever.”  
My teeth gnaw at my lip, almost of their own accord. He’s right, I can’t deny it. But the idea of leaving everything behind again is enough to set my heart running double time. Andy seems to understand my pained silence.  
“You don’t need to decide right away.” He comforts me. “I don’t leave for a few weeks.”

And how quickly those weeks pass. How quickly I need to make a choice. Do I stay at the outpost, where it’s safe and I get food every day, or do I head into the unknown to grow, to learn? I go back and forth between the best life I’ve ever known and the life I might be able to have. What eventually decides it is Andy. One way or another I’m losing something. The choice is whether I lose a bed to sleep in or the support he offers me.

I’ll take his support. God knows I need it more.

Andy is delighted when I agree to go west. He even gives me a gift, a proper pack to carry my things, made from strong leather that leaves a rectangle of sweat on my back after I wear it for a few hours. It’s a much easier way to transport everything, even if everything is only a few blankets and a book I can barely read. Finally, the day we leave the outpost comes. I roll out from under my pile of blankets before the sun begins to turn the sky red. West. What’s out west? My life, knowledge, pain, enemies? I have no idea. Everything’s moving so quickly, yesterday seems like a decade ago. The cave with my mother in another century. 

“Thought you’d still be sleeping.”  
“Goddammit Andy!” I yelp. “How the hell do you keep sneaking up on me?”  
“Lots of practice.” He replies with a smirk.  
“You can stop it now you know. I didn’t give you my book.”  
Andy shakes his head. “Just because you resisted the urge once doesn’t mean that you’re cured.”  
“I’m gonna keep losing my food aren’t I?”  
“We can forget about it if you’re happy with where you are.”  
I think about my gun hitting the ground. How useless I felt when I discovered my weakness. The hope when I could resist. “I want to get rid of this, once and for all.”  
Andy nods, eyeing the pack at my feet. “I take it that you’re packed then?”  
“I got everything I need. Picked up some food and water last night.”  
“No point putting it off then. Let’s hit the road.”

The day rapidly heats up, the glare of the sun reflecting off the road like water. Andy seems deep in thought, and I’m still not comfortable speaking out of turn, so the hours crawl by in silence. The sun is high in the sky and starting to burn the exposed back of my neck before Andy catches my eye. “You doing okay Julie?” He asks me.  
“Not bad.” I pause for a second. “You?”  
“Takes me back to being on the run, travelling I mean.”  
“Can you tell me about that?” I seem to be getting bolder.  
“You know well enough what it’s like. You’re on the run yourself.”  
I feel the blood rush to my face. “You know what I mean.”  
“Why did I run away?” Andy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Everyone asks at some point. Tell me Julie, are you going to talk about why you left home?”  
“That place wasn’t any kind of home.” I snarl. It takes me a second to realise what I’ve said, but when it sinks in my legs turn weak. I fall to the ground shaking, muttering apologies as I try and shield my head against the blows that my mother will surely be raining down on me at any second. But they don’t come. Andy crouches next to me, seeming hesitant to touch in case I lash out. Quiet words of comfort make their way to my ears as I gradually work my way out of a sea of blind panic. When my heart has returned to its normal pace, when my breathing is finally under control, I peek out from under my arms.

“You doing a little better now Julie?” he asks in a soft voice.  
Unable, or unwilling, to speak yet, I nod mutely.  
“Do you need anything?”  
My voice is horse as I croak out a single word. “Water.”  
I find a bottle being pushed into my hands. The world around me seems strange, fuzzy as though I’ve just awoken. But I’ve never been this tired on waking. It’s as though every bit of energy has been driven out of my body by the tremors that have only just left me. I take tiny, mechanical sips as Andy watches me anxiously. Something makes me think he’s weighing up his options. “I don’t really want to get into the specifics of why I left home.” He tells me at last. “But I’m willing to bet that it was for reasons quite similar to yours.”  
The bottle crunches a bit as I cling to it, trying to find something real. “Then just tell me this.” I whisper. “Am I going to be able to live my life now?”  
“I promise.” Andy says gently. “That you’ll heal eventually. I’m going to help you, I know what it’s like to be lost and alone.”  
“You know that I want to talk to you Andy. I really do. But I don’t know how.”  
Andy smiles and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “When you feel comfortable telling me something, go ahead and say it. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. You talk to me if you need help okay?”  
“Can I start now?”  
“Go for it.”  
I clear my throat. Start small. You can do this. “I used to live with my mother and my brother.” I stop to check if Andy is listening and he motions for me to continue. “I didn’t talk to anyone else until a few years ago.” He’s definitely paying attention. “My name’s not Julie.” I clap my hands over my mouth as I realise what I just said. He’s going to be so mad I lied to him. What am I going to-  
“So what’s your real name then?”  
“You-you’re not angry at me?”  
“No, I’m not. I’m actually glad that you trust me with this information.”  
“I thought you would ditch me right away.”  
“I would never do that. I promised to help you didn’t I?”  
“I thought that would be forgotten once you heard I lied to you.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“I don’t have one. Julie was only ever a placeholder to me.”  
“Is that why you have that book?”  
My hand jumps up to touch at the pack I’m carrying. The book’s protection for this journey. “Yeah. That’s probably why they gave it to me.”  
“They?”  
Instead of answering him, I push myself to my feet. “Can we just keep moving for now?”


	5. A Peaceful Life

Bit by bit we journey west, and bit by bit Andy coaxes my story out of me. He never judges what I say, at least not out loud. He just listens, speaking only to prompt me when my words falter or comfort me when I begin to cry or panic. It takes a bit over two weeks to reach the school, and by then Andy has heard most of my tale. He knows my childhood, my training and all the pain it bought me. He knows of my brother, my mother, of Tom and Julie and Mary and Lillian. He knows the effect their actions have had on me, for better or for worse. I’m finishing another confession, because that’s how I see them, as confessions not stories, as a glint of light in the valley below us catches my eye.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” I ask.  
Andy squints at the light. “Can’t say for sure yet, but this is about where Arroyo is meant to be.”  
“Race you there?”  
“I’m not running down any more damn hills.” Grumbles Andy, but in a good natured way I’ve come to understand isn’t completely serious. “I’m too old for that kind of shit.”  
“You were okay last time.”  
“I didn’t have a choice last time. Those ants were attacking us, thanks to you by the way.”  
I hold out my hands as I beam. “How was I supposed to know that they’d breathe fire?”  
Shaking his head, Andy rolls his eyes. “Come on.” He says with an amused grin. “Let’s go and see what kind of welcome this place has for us.”

Arroyo. Andy told me some stories about it as we travelled. It seems like an interesting little place. As we get closer I can see that it’s a fertile little place too. Plants wave lazily to us in the gentle breeze, greener and healthier than any I’ve seen before. “Looks like that GECK thing worked.” I say to Andy as we pass them by.  
A smiling man wearing the same coat as all the Followers do rushes to greet us. “Welcome to Arroyo. You must be Mr Hernandez.” He warmly shakes Andy’s hand in greeting before turning to me. “Ah! I see he hired somebody to help him on his way. Will you be staying long?” His tone was light and pleasant, but somehow I felt uncomfortable. “What do-” I began.  
“But you must be eager to leave. Don’t let us hold you up, Mr Hernandez is perfectly safe now.” There was no mistaking the look on his face. The same look of disgust as my mother would often throw my way was concealed under his polite smile, only his eyes betraying his disdain.  
Andy put his arm around me protectively. “Hold on just a minute Mr…?”  
“My name is Doctor Crawford Mr Hernandez. And I recommend that you say goodbye to your.” He gives me a snide, sidelong glance. “Companion before you start getting attached to it.”  
My face burns in shame. I try to turn and leave, to avoid an argument, but Andy doesn’t let me.  
“My apologies Doctor Crawford, but you seem to have misunderstood the situation. This young lady is going to be staying here.”  
An indignant sputter rises from the doctor’s lips. “Staying?”  
“That was the arrangement we made, yes.” Andy replies mildly.  
“But-but when they said you were coming they didn’t mention a girl.”  
“I plan to make sure she’s looked after. You won’t need to worry about a thing.”  
“Mr Hernandez, if I start letting people like her stay in Arroyo everything’s going to go to pieces! There’ll be fights all over town! There’ll be-”  
“Hang on a minute.” I interrupt him. “What do you mean people like me?”  
He turns his gaze back to me now, not even bothering to put on his polite mask. “Raiders, junkies, whores, and all the other wild violent sorts! You might be able to get away with killing people for what they’re carrying wherever you’re from, but I’m not having it here! Arroyo is a peaceful village and I’m going to keep it that way!”  
“That’s enough!” Crawford stops mid rant, gaping at Andy, shocked by the sudden interruption.  
“I don’t presume to know your history Mr Crawford. But I will not stand for you baselessly accusing my friend here.”  
“She doesn’t deny it!”  
“Believe me, I know why she doesn’t. But it is not for the reasons you have in mind. The Followers are supposed to help people, so that is what I am doing. If you don’t like it find yourself another teacher.”  
“But that could take months!”  
Andy just folds his arms, staring the shorter man down until he throws up his hands in surrender.  
“Fine! You can keep your little pet.” He spits. “And if that girl causes any trouble she’s out!”  
“Well,” Andy says to me as Crawford storms away. “I think that went terrifically.”  
“He can’t really kick me out can he?”  
“No, he doesn’t have the authority to do that.”  
“Sorry about all that Andy.”  
“You have nothing to apologise for. There are idiots like that wherever you go, and what they do is nobody’s fault but theirs. If anybody ever treats you like that again you know what you should do?”  
“What?” I ask.  
“You look him dead in the eye and tell him ‘Fuck you’.”  
I burst out laughing. “Thanks.” I say through giggles. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”  
“Good. Now let’s find someone that isn’t an ignorant fuckwad to help us find where everything is.”

The makeshift building that is to be the school will also serve as our home while we stay here. The lady that we found to guide us points towards a door at the back of the room.  
“That’ll be where you two stay. There’s a bathroom back there too if you want to wash up.”  
“Thank you.” Andy smiles. “It would be nice to clean up after our travels.”  
“Glad to see you’re nicer than the other fellow at least.”  
“You mean the doctor? We’ve had the misfortune of meeting him I’m afraid.”’  
She laughs, giving us a glimpse of the few teeth she has left. “He’s like that I’m afraid. Won’t shut up about protecting the town, always using it as an excuse to throw people out that don’t treat him like some kind of god. Just nod your head when he’s talking and ignore him when he’s gone.”  
“I’m afraid that it may be a bit late for that. He wasn’t very happy when I said that my friend here would be staying with me. Things got a bit heated.”  
“Ah, you best be sure not to get injured then. He’ll be sure to make fixing you up as painful as he possibly can.”  
“I’ll need to include his behaviour in my first report. Followers shouldn’t act like he does.”  
“Everyone’s gonna be glad. There ain’t a soul in town that likes that pompous moron.” And with a toss of her grey hair, she’s gone.  
Turning to smile at me, Andy gestures towards our quarters. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.” He says.  
The bathroom is just off an area with a desk and couch. Another door leads to a room with a small bed and a footlocker. I dump my bag on the couch as Andy checks the bedroom. “Dibs mine!” I yell.  
He looks back with a smile. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the bed?” He asks. “I don’t mind.”  
“Andy, you’ve been complaining about your creaky old bones for the last two weeks. I’m not putting up with that for the whole time we’re here as well. Besides, I’ve slept rougher than this.”  
“Fair enough. You want the bathroom first or can I take it?”  
“Go ahead and take it. I wanted to get a look around town.”

Arroyo isn’t much bigger than Boulder City, but its atmosphere is entirely different. The grey concrete that was everywhere has been replaced by the green of waving plants, the brownness of the earth, the yellow and dull rusty red of the buildings. The air seems fresher too, maybe from all the plants. Its nice overall, the things I liked about Boulder City can be found here too. The voices are just as free, the pace just as leisurely. I could really get used to a place like this. I lie back in the dirt of a recently ploughed field and watch as birds soar above me. I smile at their circling and diving after insects too small for my eyes to see, for the first time in a long time allowing myself to relax. There are no sudden orders I must obey lest I be punished. Nothing about the future weighs on my mind as it did when I waited for the Followers to arrive. I don’t even have to keep alert like I did while travelling. All there is in my world right now is this. The feel of the soft earth beneath me, the blue of the sky above, and the chirps of the birds as they dance through the air. I lie contented as the sun passes overhead, until it is beginning to dip down in the west. I smile as I get to my feet, brushing the dirt from my clothes, and take the longest route back I can find so I can enjoy the village a little longer.

The door gives a rusty screech when I push it open, alerting Andy to my return. He smiles at me, shuffling the papers he’s been studying. “Anything interesting out there?”  
“Not interesting, but the town’s nice.” I think about the feeling in the air. “It’s peaceful here.”  
“I noticed that myself.”  
I shift my weight, fidgeting a bit. “Bathroom’s through there right?”  
Andy turns back to his papers, nodding his head.  
After I get out of the shower, feeling strangely tingly from the water’s assault on my skin, I find that the couch has been set up with blankets. Andy is nowhere to be seen, probably asleep already, but if I had to guess I would say that he was the one that set it out. Mostly because he’s the only other person in the building. I curl up as small as I can and pile the blankets on top of me, tangled inside like a bird in its nest. Their weight is soothing somehow, lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

I’m woken by the sun shining in my face through the grimy window. My neck clicks as I stretch out, stiff from spending the night curled up in a ball. Andy’s snores drift through from the next room, telling me he won’t be up anytime soon. My stomach growls at me, demanding food. Everything I packed for the trip has already been eaten, my hunting skills got us through the last few days of travelling, but I still have a bag full of caps from Mary and Lillian. Time to find breakfast.  
There’s a man selling hot bowls of grain for cheap, I remember seeing him yesterday. The morning air is cool against my face as I step outside and I breathe it in deep. It feels cleansing, and I can’t help but smile as I set off, gravel crunching beneath my boots. It’s good to be here. I think as I pay the man. It’s good to be-. The spoon clatters against the bowl as I wolf down the hot, tasteless mush. What am I doing here? It doesn’t seem to be as important as it was back in Boulder City, but I still don’t really have a long term plan. I’m not alone anymore though. If nothing else I can take comfort in that.  
“What the hell are you doing out here?”  
“Ahh shit. Just when I though my day was off to a good start.”  
Crawford gapes at me, but I can’t stop him for long. “Why are you on your own out here? Mr Hernandez is meant to be watching you.”  
“I can find my own way around town thanks.” I say in a voice like poisoned sugar.  
“What are you planning?”  
The man selling grain winces as I slam my empty bowl down hard enough to rattle the spoons on the table. “Fuck you Crawford. I’m not letting you treat me like this.”  
“Just answer the question you stupid girl.”  
He shrinks back as I get to my feet and he realises how tall I am. How much I’m used to fighting. But I just stand there as he stares at me. “You want to know my history? You want me to relive my past just to win the approval of a guy I don’t even particularly like? All you need to know is this. I have no plans to hurt anyone in this town, though at this point I’d be willing to make an exception for you. Now leave me the fuck alone. I’m sick of you and your shit.”  
I turn and walk away to hide my shock. I’ve never spoken like that before, what the hell is going on? I wouldn’t change a thing though, Crawford doesn’t deserve my respect. Andy’s awake by the time I reach our living space, so I can’t hide my face from him.  
“What happened this time?”  
“Got in a shouting match with Crawford.” I tell him nervously, but he only smiles at me.  
“Good on you.” Andy says. “No need to put up with him.”  
“What am I meant to do now though? I mean, I’ve not really fought with anyone before.”  
“Just remember that he’s a moron.”  
“He’s a doctor Andy. Doesn’t that mean he knows loads?”  
“Still a moron, no matter what his title is.” He grins at my surprised expression. “Just remember, you don’t have to talk to him.”  
“Will he leave me alone?”  
“Maybe, maybe not. You could always fight him. Scare him off.”  
“Will that work?” I ask.  
“Every case is different. You can never know unless you try.”  
I think about attacking Crawford, about breaking his nose and knocking out his teeth. The image of him beaten doesn’t satisfy me though, rather, it fills me with a kind of dread. Though I have no clue what I’m afraid of. “I don’t think I can attack him.”  
Andy shrugs, tapping his pen on the desk. “It’s your choice, but if he attacks you do you think you could fight back?”  
That image doesn’t worry me nearly as much. “I’m not exactly opposed to fighting, you know that.”  
“Just making sure.” He says.  
“Are you alright Andy?”  
He smiles. “Just distracted, thinking about lessons. And there’s something I wanted to ask you.”  
“Oh?” I feel a lump rising in my throat. “What did you want to know?”  
“It’s nothing bad, I just wanted to help you make a plan for our time here.”  
“What do you mean plan?” I ask.  
“Odds are you’ll be wanting to spend your time at the school, but I didn’t want to just assume you would. So I’m asking. What do you want to do with your time here?”  
“School’s fine.” I say. I don’t want to disappoint Andy and anyway, this doesn’t seem like too bad an option. Reading isn’t the only thing I want to learn.  
But Andy puts down his paperwork, turning his full attention to me. “Is there anything else you want to do? Learning doesn’t have to take up all your time you know.”  
I hadn’t seen this coming, but then again Andy was always hard to predict. I take a second to think. “I wouldn’t mind doing some hunting again.” I answer eventually. “I could have something to trade.”  
“Anything else?”  
I shake my head. “Honestly, I’d prefer to just stay out of everyone’s way.”  
“Your choice.”  
“Is there anything else you wanted to say?”  
He hesitates for a second, but his face breaks into a smile. “Actually, I need some help figuring out these lessons. Did you find Alice in Wonderland to be a good choice for beginner readers?”

Plans are finished within a week, and then the school is open for business. I claim a seat at the back of the room, hidden in the corner where I can keep to myself. People trickle in and out as their schedules allow, and it’s not long before I notice that barely anyone else stays for the full lesson. I have no plans of leaving early though. This kind of education is actually fun. The town appreciates my efforts in hunting too, providing meat and hide for everyone as well as keeping the pest numbers down. It’s easy, almost scarily so, that I can fall into a routine so quickly. But if I’m being honest with myself, this is a damn good place to be, even if it does have a few drawbacks.  
I take the advice we got when we first arrived to heart, doing my very best not to get injured while out hunting. There are a few times when it can’t be helped, but I’m always able to patch up the damage myself.

Right up until the point I’m not.

The day is cooling off, and I’d taken advantage of the weather to go out again, wandering further than I usually did. There are tracks in the earth to guide me, leading me towards a coyote pack. The first thing that gives me a hint that something’s gone wrong are the splashes of blood. One up against a rock, a few droplets trailing along the ground. But I ignore them, pleased at the thought of easy prey. By the time I find the coyote’s body it’s too late to back out. I gag at the swollen, putrid flesh. How was this possible? The tracks were barely a few hours old but the body looked like it was rotting already. As soon as I make a sound an angry buzzing starts up. It’s low, almost too low for me to hear, and makes the hairs stand up on my neck. Whatever the hell this thing is, I don’t want to fight it. I just turn and run as the buzzing gets louder and louder. Every step sends a jolt up my legs, my blood roars in my ears and my breaths come short and shallow. But I can’t outrun it. A flash of bright orange, a glimpse of merciless red eyes, hard armour against my body as it lunges. These are the only clear memories I have of the creature. Because before long the pain started. White hot searing pain, flowing through my body like water, burning my blood like fire. My head spins, the world tilting and fading as I try to stay awake. It’s still alive, the buzzing hasn’t stopped yet. With shaky hands I raise my knife, searching for the source of the noise. When I see orange again, I don’t hesitate.

The buzzing had changed now. Dimly, I noticed it seemed even more enraged. But something about it was off, the tempo was different. But this was a mystery for another day. I’m hardly able to walk, and yet I run. Fear fuelling me, pushing me past the blinding pain, I run for safety. Arroyo is just coming into sight when my legs give out. No, can’t stop here, need to keep moving. I reach out one hand. The earth hurts as I drag myself across it, stones cutting into my skin, but it doesn’t worry me when my blood is boiling. I just need to go a little further. Just a…little bit…

The last thing I see before darkness overtakes me is the town. So close, yet so impossibly far away.

My mouth tastes like metal. My mother must have really put me through my paces yesterday. I hope I don’t have any teeth missing. But this isn’t right. The ground has never felt this soft before. I blink my eyes hard and the room comes into view.

The schoolhouse, lying on the couch with Andy hovering over me. Not the cave, not with my mother.  
Safe.  
“You’re okay!” Andy’s eyes are bloodshot, his hair mussed as though he’s been running his hands through it.  
“Wha-” my voice is barely a croak. “What happened? How long was I out?”  
“About a day. I was so worried about you! I thought you were going to die!”  
My head feels fuzzy, like my brain isn’t working yet. “I don’t, remember.”  
“No, you were in quite a bad state when they bought you in.” He leans against the desk, shaking. “I honestly thought I was going to have to kill that doctor.”  
“Andy, I don’t understand.”  
“I was going through material for class when someone barged in. Told me that you’d passed out just outside the village and that they were bringing you to the doctor.” He pauses, swallowing slightly. His voice sounds broken when he speaks again.  
“You looked, awful. Your skin was this horrible sickly pale colour. I honestly would have said you were gone if it wasn’t for the sounds you were making. Your breathing, it was so heavy, and you started to scream when they picked you up. It was horrible, I’m just grateful you don’t remember it.  
When we got you to Crawford he turned away. Said you must be on drugs or something, having a bad trip, and that you’d come down eventually. I may have gotten a bit violent when I heard that. Eventually I ah, persuaded him to take a closer look at you. When he saw the wound on your hand he flipped out.” I look down, my right hand is covered in bandages. Now that my attention’s been draw to it, my entire arm feels like lead. “He pumped you full of some kind of medicine, he even used one of his stimpaks so you must have been in a really bad way. After a few hours he called me over, said he’d done everything he could and that he wasn’t having you at the hospital for a second longer than you needed to be. So I took you home, making damn sure he knew that if you died, I’d be coming after him.”  
“Would you really have done that?”  
“I don’t know. Probably.”  
A moment passes, and I’d be content for it to be silent. But there’s something at the edges of my mind, something I should say before I drift off again. I struggle to grab onto the thought, but it’s taking more effort than it should.  
“What’s wrong? Molly are you in pain?” Andy sounds far away, like he’s at the end of a tunnel or something. The thought I’ve been searching for comes to me all at once, even if I don’t understand what it means.  
“Orange. There was orange everywhere.” I don’t know what it means. “My blood was on fire.” I whisper as I sink into the dark again.  
I slip in and out of conciseness for what could either be a few hours, or many, many years. Vaguely, I’m aware that I’m being taken care of. Water cools my throat, sometimes followed by a few bites of food. Hands rest on my forehead, a relief when I have a fever. Voices always murmur. Sometimes I can even hear what they’re saying. But there’s no telling which ones are real.  
 _When I got out…always dreamed she’d be like you._  
Can you hear me? You need to stay with me.  
…gave me enough strength, can’t thank them enough.  
Always wanted to be a father…  
Let us out! Let us go!  
Best not to think about it.  
Trapped without needing chains or collars. Trapped by the mind.   
You’re a smart kid.  
Fucking worthless.  
Get over here girl!  
You ungrateful whore!  
Brat!  
Bitch!  
Julie.  
Molly.  
Molly.  
MOLLY!

I’m awake. Really awake this time. And even though I’m turned away from him I know that Andy’s there. He always was. I can feel the gentle pressure of his hand against mine, a comfort that feels familiar. I give him a smile as I turn to face him even though it makes my head spin.  
“You’re awake.” His own smile is guarded.  
“Yeah. I’ve been drifting for a while now.”  
“You have?”  
“Someone was feeding me.” I mumble.  
“I had to take care of you. I wouldn’t let you go without.”  
“Thanks Andy.” He’s done so much for me. Thank you is the very least I can do in return. “How long was I out?”  
“There was this moment a day in. I thought you were awake but you went under again. Since then it’s been about a week. Maybe a bit longer.”  
“I didn’t dream that then? You telling me about Crawford chucking me out?”  
“Unfortunately, no.”  
“You said something.”  
He looks at me like I’ve caught him doing something shameful. “Wh-what did I say?”  
“You called me a name. Molly.”  
“Ah.” Andy relaxes visibly, but I decide not to press the matter. “Yes. I needed something to refer to you as in my head, and that’s the one I came up with. Are you okay with it?”  
I take a moment to think it over. Not a bad name, even if I wouldn’t have chosen it myself. I remember it from the book, but only dimly, and I make a promise to look it up again. “It’s fine. As long as you call me by anything I might be calling myself when you talk to me, I don’t have any problems. Smart thinking actually.”  
“That’s good.”  
“Andy?”  
“What is it? Is there something I can get you?”  
“Do you know what happened to me? It’s all a blur.”  
“Cazador.” His face is grim. “They’ve got a nasty sting on them. You’re lucky to be alive.”  
“Did I kill it?”  
“You crippled it enough to get away. A party of hunters took it down after you got back.”  
My head throbs. “I can’t believe I was so careless.”  
“You couldn’t have known.”  
I lift my hands, staring at the bandages. He’s wrong, I shouldn’t let him comfort me. I pick at the white cloth. “Is it safe to take these off?” I ask in a small voice.  
“We’ll have to ask the doctor.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, really.” He smiles. “I know he’s a piece of shit, but he knows more about medicine than me.”  
I groan, stretching out. “Let’s get this over with.”

My legs shake as I try to walk, enough that I’d fall over if I was on my own. But Andy’s there, guiding my shaky steps towards the doctor’s house. Unsurprisingly, Crawford scoffs at the sight of me.  
“What do you want girl?”  
I make a point of ignoring him as I hold out my injured hand. “Can I take these off yet?”  
“Is that all you came here for? Yes you can take them off, it’s been safe for days.”  
Slowly, I unwind the fabric, revealing a scar on the palm of my hand. I still have full movement though, no pain, no numbness, so I’m not worried about it. But Crawford seems to want me upset.  
“What’s the matter girl? Stimpaks can’t fix everything you know.”  
“My hand works.” I shrug. “Seems fixed to me.”  
I examine the scar. A jagged starburst blooms from the centre of my palm, dark red in the middle. I flip my hand over to see a mirror image of it. “The stinger went straight through.” I muse. “Must have been trying to defend myself.”  
Crawford scoffs at me. “Trying to fight a cazador unarmed? You’re even more foolish than I thought.”  
“That’s enough.” Andy’s voice startles me. Even though he’s been holding me up this whole time I’d forgotten he was still there.  
“Yeah fuck off Crawford.” But it seems incomplete. “Thanks though. You saved my life.”  
“Oh! Ummm.” He’s at a loss for words, and honestly I like him better when he’s not talking. “Think nothing of it?”  
I stare at him, but the unexpected politeness doesn’t last. “What the hell are you looking at me like that for girl?”  
“Yeah, whatever. Andy can we get back now?”  
“Of course. Do you think you can keep walking?”  
My head is spinning, but I refuse to be carried. “Yeah, I can walk.”

Andy’s upset. I can tell by the way he paces, his distraction when he’s teaching. Sometimes he’ll just trail off and stare out the window. It’s not like him to act like this, but I’m too nervous to ask what’s going on. I just wait as he paces and murmurs, arguing with himself. Whatever crisis he’s going through, I have to hope that he’s able to handle it alone. Spending a week bedridden hasn’t done wonders for my muscles, and I’m keen on getting my strength back now that my head’s stopped spinning every time I stand up. I’m just coming back from a run when Andy finally brings up what’s bothering him.  
“I need to talk to you.”  
“Something bothering you Andy?”  
He leans against his desk, wringing his hands. “I need to ask if you want to stay here.”  
“What?” Leaving? Why would we do that? “Are you planning on going somewhere?”  
“Not exactly. I’ve been thinking a lot-”  
“Thought I smelt something burning.”  
“-And I’m not sure if it’s safe to stay after what Crawford did to you.” Andy finishes, ignoring my jibe.  
“He saved my life Andy, even if he didn’t help at first. He’s a doctor.”  
“You have no idea do you?”  
My heart skips a beat. “I don’t understand.”  
“Your hand. He left that scar on purpose.”  
“What?” The star on my hand seems to be burning again, I look at it numbly. “Why would he do that?”  
“There’s any number of reasons. To teach you a lesson, to make sure you’ll always remember him, he’s hoping for fear if that’s the case, to disfigure you and make you insecure.”  
“Are you sure?” I ask.  
“Positive. I’ve seen people do things like this more often than I care to admit, even if they were usually in less subtle ways than this. It’ll be safer if we leave. I don’t want to know what he might do if we stay.”  
I bite my lip. “But what about teaching? I thought the Followers were counting on you.”  
“I’m on a trial period. One more month and the year’s finished. I can go where I want.”  
“Do you want to leave Andy, or do you just want me safe?” I can leave on my own, even if I don’t want to.  
“Let me tell you a secret.” Instinctively I shuffle closer, making him laugh. “It’s nothing really big. Remember when I told you that travelling bought me back to being on the run?”  
Before we even came here. “I remember.”  
“Being on the run was the best time of my life. I like travelling, as a matter of fact I’ve never settled down. This is the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place.”  
“Why?” If he wants to travel then why take a job? It doesn’t make sense.  
“Because of you.” I blink in surprise. “I’m taking care of you and thought that you’d be safer and happier if we stayed in one place. All I can ask is that you can forgive me, I didn’t realise that you might be in danger.”  
“You had no way of knowing.”  
He nods, accepting my answer. “So we leave, look for a new place to settle down. I can teach or you can hunt. We’ll make it work.”  
“I don’t want you to be unhappy.”  
Andy’s face lights up, but his tone is guarded. “What do you mean?”  
“You like travelling. Why stop? I’d like to see more of the world.” I haven’t thought about it actually, but I’m not against the idea.  
“I thought you’d prefer somewhere safe, after all you haven’t travelled much before.”  
“It’s time for me to catch up then. One more month?”  
Andy’s almost bouncing, like he’s so full of joy that staying still now would kill him. “We’d best start preparing.”


	6. Looking Ahead

Every time I see Crawford over that month my skin starts to crawl. The scar on my hand itches every time I hear his name. I try and distract myself, throwing all my energy into hunting, but it doesn’t always work. Sometimes, in the dark space in between sleep and wakefulness, I find myself worrying. A thousand possibilities swirl in my head, each more frightening than the last. It’s a relief when I only have one night left in Arroyo.

My bag is packed once again, filled with supplies. I know this and yet I’m searching through it again, checking every item, making sure that I haven’t forgotten anything, as though my book wasn’t the only precious treasure I carry. Andy laughs as he walks in the room to find me among boxes of food and bits and pieces of clothing that I’ve managed to collect.  
“It’s not going anywhere you know. At least not without you carrying it.”  
“I know.” I say bashfully. “I just can’t seem to stop.”  
Andy gives me a warm smile. “Nerves can be awful. I understand.”  
“Not gonna help me sleep tonight. My stupid brain won’t shut up.”  
“Hmm.” He sits down on the desk. “Would you prefer to talk?”  
“About what?”  
“You’ve told me about your past-”  
“You planning on discussing yours? I know you’re not really comfortable with it, don’t feel like you have to.”  
“Actually, I was going to ask if you had any plans for the future, aside from the travelling that is.”  
“Plans? I thought travelling was the plan.”  
“Wrong word maybe. Is there anything you want to do? Goals or dreams?” Andy asks.  
I think for a moment, but nothing comes to mind. “All I’ve been doing is sort of drifting along.” I tell him. “I don’t care too much what I wind up doing as long as I’m not with my mother anymore.”  
“What about your brother?”  
My stomach twists, but I try not to let it show. “What about him?”  
“You’ve not bought him up that much, but I wanted to know if you were looking for him.”  
“It’s never crossed my mind.” I say firmly. “He left me, let him do whatever it is he wanted to do.”  
“Mol- sorry, you’re sure you don’t want to find him?”  
“Absolutely. I might be pissed at him for abandoning me, but I’m not quite pissed enough to track him down and punch him in the face.”  
“Not a problem, but we do need to figure out which way we’ll be heading come morning.”  
“Southeast?” I venture.  
“What’s to the southeast?”  
“I have no idea, that’s why I want to go there.”  
Andy chuckles. “You’ve got the right idea. Southeast it is, here’s hoping for adventure.”

The night passes slowly, but at some point all the colours fade into shadows as I drift off to sleep. If I dream, any memory of it is chased away by dawn’s rosy light. Andy is seated on the floor, leaning against the couch with a smile on his face. When I move to stand up he begins to stir.  
“Sorry Andy, I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
“It’s fine.” He yawns. “Glad you managed to sleep.”  
“So what? Do we head off now?”  
Andy smiles at me. “Food first. There’s no telling when we’ll get another chance for a good meal so we’d best make the most of it.”

Breakfast is a feast of roast meat and bread, one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. We lean against an old fence as we eat, laughing and talking through bites of food.  
“You’re leaving now?” Oh god, here comes Crawford again. “Please, you need to reconsider! What are we going to do without a teacher?”  
Andy sighs. “The Followers will send someone else. They should arrive within the week. Could you perhaps turn down the whole ‘I’m better than you’ act when you meet them? It’s really off-putting.”  
I begin eating as fast as I possibly can. I want no part of this. Well, no part except spectator. Crawford really does turn the most interesting colours when he’s angry.  
“It’s your job! You’re a teacher so teach!”  
“Not my job anymore.” Andy is calm as still water. Next to him Crawford looks ridiculous. “Now let me head out.” He finishes the last of his food and grins at me.  
“I’m ready to go.” I say.  
At the sound of my voice Crawford goes in for one last attack. “This is all your fault you know! If you’d just stayed away from this idiot then-”  
His nose makes a very satisfying crunch as my fist slams into it.  
“Don’t talk about Andy like that.” I growl.  
Everybody’s staring at us, and I think I see a few people hiding smirks. Andy looks so proud I almost want to laugh. “We still going?” I ask him.  
“Whenever you’re ready.”  
The doctor doesn’t say another word as he watches us leave.

Once were out of sight Andy turns to me with a massive grin on his face. “I don’t know how you held out for so long, but he really deserved that.”  
I offer a small smile of my own in return, but with nothing to add I just gesture ahead of us. “Onwards to adventure?”  
Andy lifts his rifle, holding it aloft. “Onwards!” he cries.


	7. A Hero's Heart

Southeast doesn’t have much to offer for the first few days but more desert, but it doesn’t take long for me to begin to enjoy moving. To crave the new sights or to find out what’s on the other side of that hill. It doesn’t matter if the answer is “geckos”, “healing plants”, or just “more desert”. The sky looks even more beautiful as we watch it change. Andy begins to teach me about navigation.

“I’m not the best at it.” He tells me. “But I can at least find north.”  
The stars all look the same to me though, I prefer my compass.

But the peace is shattered one day by the shouts of agony echoing from just over the hill. I go to see what the matter is, but Andy grabs my arm and pulls me down into a crouch.

“Watch out.” He whispers. “It’s probably a trap.”  
So we slowly creep towards the sound, staying below the horizon. I recoil in horror as the scene comes in to view.  
A young boy, no older than eleven, is tied to a post. Surrounding him are dozens of laughing figures, jabbing at him with cattle prods. He cries for mercy, but it only makes them laugh harder.  
“Up the power!” One of them shrieks. “Make the piggy squeal!”  
I glance at Andy, silently asking for guidance. His face is contorted in rage as he watches the boy being tortured. He lifts his rifle, squinting down the scope as he lines up his shot, and fires.  
My heart flips. They’ve noticed us for sure and now god only knows what going to happen. But as a man, probably, but it’s hard to tell at this distance, falls to the ground and red seeps out past his spiked armour, staining the ground, they barely give him more than a glance.  
“Get up!” One of them yells. “We’re not finished yet.”  
Andy takes three more of them out before they even realise something’s going on. The last ones left standing blink, finally noticing the blood on the ground and the bodies of their comrades, but they don’t move until another one of them has their head splattered.

Now they turn, spotting us on the hillside. Bellowing, the three of them charge towards us, spreading out as they go.

“Take care of them would you?” Andy’s reloading, defenceless. I raise my pistol, waiting for them to come close enough to use it.  
Only one of them has a gun. I take her out first. The other two keep coming, wielding nothing but their cattle prods. I hit one right in the head, taking a moment to be proud of myself before taking the last raider down.

Andy doesn’t let his guard down as he heads into the camp, rifle raised and ready to go off at any second. His eyes scan everything, looking for hiding places as he approaches the boy.

“Are there more?” His voice is quiet, but urgent. The boy nods his head, tears welling up in his eyes.  
“A buncha them went out a while back. Haven’t seen ‘em since.” He sniffs. “Are you here to save me?”  
Andy glances at me. “Keep a lookout.” He warns before turning back to the boy. “We’ll help you. Don’t worry.” With a quick tug he’s unbound the boy’s hands. He rubs his wrists while Andy frees his feet too.  
“Thank you.” He sobs, clinging to Andy as tightly as his thin arms can.  
I spot a cloud of dust, just like the clouds our feet stir up when we’re walking on particularly dusty ground. “Andy.” I warn. “We’ve got company.”  
He looks at the dust. “They’re too close for us to get away in time. We’re going to have to fight our way out.” The boy sobs as Andy places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can either fight or hide. We won’t think any less of you for doing either.” He doesn’t hesitate, sprinting towards a pile of boxes on the edge of the camp.  
“How many bullets have you got?”  
I slide open my gun. “Four.” I reply.  
“I have six.” His face is calm, focused. “Make them count.”  
“I’m going to surprise them.” I say. “Find cover. I’ll have a better chance of hitting them if they don’t know where I am.”  
Andy nods. “Good idea. There’s some scrub by that tent over there. I’ll lure them in.”

I head off at a jog, sinking down and wriggling until I have a clear view of Andy. To my surprise he puts his gun away, waiting in the middle of the camp for the incoming raiders.  
“Hey!” He yells as soon as they begin to appear against the sky. “Anyone here?”  
I can see them freeze for a second before they rush towards him. The promise of another person to torture exciting them, making them careless. One of them falls over, but gets back up like they can’t even feel the sharp rocks digging into their face. I hold my breath as they rush closer, screaming for blood, for pain. When they reach the bottom of the hill and begin across the flat plain I fire.

One of them goes down right away. I don’t know what I hit but they aren’t moving. The next one takes a bullet to the arm. They don’t even react, their wounded body just hurtles along at a frightening pace, never even missing a step. I curse, but set my sights on a raider with no helmet, allowing their crest of hair to stand tall. They fall as I catch them in the throat. My last bullet rips through leather and muscle, sending a man sprawling in the dust before he gets back up.

“I’m out!” I cry. Andy lifts his gun in one smooth movement, finishing off the one with a wounded arm. I grab out as one rushes past my hiding spot, sending them to the ground. They struggle as I vault onto their back, but once my knife goes through their spine I feel the body under me go limp.  
Andy fires again, and I rush to his side. If anybody gets too close they’re going to have a knife waiting for them. Another raider goes down, but I can’t count how many there are left. I leap on a man with a sledgehammer, easily dodging the clumsy swing. He falls as I land on him, and snarls, twisting, trying to throw me off. My knife clatters away as he squeezes my wrist tightly, forcing me to let go. Drawing back my fist, I throw a punch that he manages to block at the expense of his own weapon. A half-second of distraction is all I need to draw another knife and strike at his heart. I leap to my feet to see another raider lose their life at the end of Andy’s rifle. He turns slightly, aiming at a slower figure, one that’s limping form the wound I left in their leg, when a hulking man in a suit of spiked metal darts out from behind a rock, barely a step away from him.

I throw myself forward, grabbing the man’s gun and forcing the barrel away. A shot cracks through the air, making my ears ring as I tackle him to the ground, pinning his weapon between us.  
He struggles, but even though I’m smaller I have the advantage. I press his gun across his throat and he lets out a gasp. His lips turn blue as he struggles to breathe. I press down harder, sure that I’ve won, but he uses the last of his strength to do something unexpected. The business end of his rifle goes down into the dirt. I barely have time to notice what he’s doing before I find myself landing on my back, the ground driving the air out of my lungs as I fall against it. Somehow he reversed our places, and he picks up my knife with a smirk.  
“Love to see how long it’ll take for the fight to go out of you.” He drags the tip of blade over my cheek, drawing blood as I stare him down. “Bet you’d look real nice with your face carved up.” He pushes the blade deeper, trying to make me react. All he gets is a glob of spit in his eye. I try and throw him off while he’s distracted, but he slams me into the ground again, making my head spin.  
“Get the fuck off me you heap of shit!”  
Another laugh as he runs the knife under my eye. I can barely move, pinned and helpless. But instead of fear, anger fills me. I free another knife from my sleeve and strike at his leg.  
The smirk vanishes as he howls in pain. I stick my finger in the wound, bucking and twisting. But he doesn’t move. The last plan I had failed. He pants, eyes filled with fury.  
“You’ll pay for that you little bitch!” Fear hits me like a punch to the gut. I can’t hear anything from Andy, and I resist the urge to scream for his help. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to start. But instead I hear a loud thud. The man collapses on top of me. Shaking my head, I roll him away, sucking down big gasps of air to try and calm myself down.  
The boy is standing over me, clinging tightly to a pipe as his eyes dart around. I let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks kid.”  
He points at something, and I can see the fear in his eyes. Andy is struggling with a raider, although he’s doing much better that I was. She’s bleeding already from several wounds that she doesn’t seem to feel. He struggles against her, dodging the wild swings of her bat and desperately trying to reach the rifle that’s been knocked just out of reach. I sprint for the gun and aim at the two figures darting around. “Andy!” I cry. “Duck!”  
At the sound of my voice he hits the deck. The raider has a bullet in her chest before she can follow up on her advantage. Blood sounds in my ears as I scan the area, but there’s no more.

We’ve won.

I rush to Andy’s side. He’s not hurt, but I help him to his feet anyway.  
“Good work.” He tells me. He glances at the boy and smile when he sees the pipe. “Looks like you managed to help us out.”  
He looks at the ground. “Only got one of ‘em.”  
“Glad you did.” I say. “That fucker was about to slice me up.”  
Andy glares at the man. There’s a big dent in his skull where the pipe hit him. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead he softens his expression and turns towards the kid, crouching down to his level. “What’s your name?” He asks.  
The boy sniffs. “Michael.”  
“Can you tell us what happened?”  
“Home’s not good no more. Everyone’s gettin’ sick. Me and my Ma, we stayed until my Papa died and then we had no reason left to stay. We were headin’ for Louisville to stay with family there. These guys saw us.” Tears roll down his cheeks.  
“Where’s your mother?”  
Michael points at a woman’s corpse with deep cuts all over her face. Skin hangs off her in sheets, bone glinting white underneath. There are marks on her wrists, like she was struggling against something tying her down. “We didn’t have anything worth takin’ so they said they were gonna have some fun instead.”  
Andy places a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry Michael.”  
He just cries, huddling into a ball. “I don’t know what I do now.” He sobs.  
“How ‘bout we take you to Louisville?” I ask. Andy smiles so I know I’m making the right choice. Michael looks at me, his soft brown eyes wide and hopeful.  
“You really mean it?”  
I smile. “Hey, I owe you big time. You just saved my life.” I don’t mention that we saved him first, but he must know it because a frown creases his face. “Anyway, we need somewhere to resupply. We’re out of ammo.”  
Andy gestures at the camp. “Find any supplies you can. Food, water, medicine, and ammo are the priorities, but if you find any armour, or something that’ll sell feel free to take it.” He takes hold of Michael’s hand, trying to comfort him as he starts crying again. “Shhh, it’s alright. You can go with one of us if you don’t want to be alone.” Michael doesn’t let go, so Andy leads him towards the boxes he was hiding in. “Odds are there’ll be something in here.” He says. “But I’ll need you to point it out. I can’t see as well as I once did.”  
I laugh at the lie, picturing Andy shooting those raiders from the hillside. If he’s blind then I’m a box of snackcakes. I head towards the tents, poking around the boxes there. Most of them only have personal supplies, clothes and junk, but I find some bullets that’ll suit my gun. I count ten, assuming all of them still work. A fridge contains maybe two days’ worth of food for the three of us. Andy calls out to me when I finish packing it. “Have you finished?”  
“I just have to check in this trailer.” Scanning the inside, I see a box on the table I promise to check out, bottles scattering the floor and a first aid box on the wall.  
Jackpot.  
Two stimpacks to add to our supplies and a bottle of water to keep us going. I glance at Andy “If you’re hurt now’s the time to say something.”  
“I’m alright. How about you Michael?”  
“Better now.”  
“We’ll save these for later then.” I pack them with the rest of our medicine. “You guys find anything?”  
Michael grins. “I got a gun!” He says proudly, showing me a battered old glock. “It’s just like the one I had at home!”  
“Hey, that’s awesome!” I smile at his excitement, glad that he’s starting to cheer up. “How many times can you fire it?”  
“Seven. I’m putting a round in the chamber so I don’t need to reload it.”  
“Smart. Anything else?”  
“A few cans of beans and two more shots for my gun.” Andy replies. “What’ve you got?”  
“More food and ten bullets for my own gun.” I pat my pistol as I mention it. “Last thing’s that box over there unless you want to go shopping for armour.”  
“I’m fine, but Michael might want to get himself protected.” Andy frowns at the boys’ ragged clothes. “What do you think?”  
“Can I get a helmet?”  
“Sure!”  
I open the box while they’re talking. I can’t make sense of what I see. “Um, guys? Either of you know what all this is?”  
Andy glances at the boxes contents. Needles and inhalers packed tightly together with pills sprinkled on top. “Well that explains why they didn’t slow down. They were so high that they didn’t feel a damn thing.”  
“They’d go in here sometimes and always be different after.” Michael chips in. “Stronger and meaner than before.”  
“What should we do with them?” I ask.  
“Doctors actually need this stuff sometimes. It can really help someone in pain if it’s used right.”  
“I can carry it.” Michael says. “The Doctor in Louisville is meant to work miracles!”  
“If you think that’s a good idea.” Andy says. “I’ll help you find a pack.”  
With the chems safe in Michael’s bag and his new helmet sitting proudly on his head, we set off south for Louisville.

“Any idea how long it’ll be?” I ask.  
“I’ve been this way before.” Andy replies. “We should be about three days walk away if I remember correctly.”  
Michael looks up curiously. “You’ve been to Louisville?”  
“I’ve been lots of places.”  
“Like where?”  
“We’ve just come from Arroyo. Before that we were in the Mojave.”  
“Arroyo?” His eyes grow wide. “You mean where the Chosen One came from?”  
“The one and only.”  
Michael’s face breaks into a huge grin. “Wow! What about the other place? The Mo-har-vee?”  
“Not much going on there.” Andy replies. “It’s really just starting out, but I bet it’ll be cool one day.”  
Michael looks at the ground. “I wish Ma was here.” He whispers. “She loved to hear about new places.”  
Andy sighs. “I’m real sorry kid.”  
“So’m I.” Michael looks close to tears again.  
“Hey.” I say. “Just focus on getting to Louisville for now. That’s our goal.”  
He sniffs. “Is it okay if I cry while I’m focusing?”  
I’d meant to distract him, but if getting his feelings out will help then I don’t plan on stopping him. “If you want to.” I say.

It’s hardest for him when we rest. Then I can hear him sobbing quietly into his hands, calling for his mother. It breaks my heart to see how much he misses her, so I do my best to hurry us along, hoping that the rest of his family will offer him comfort that the two of us can’t. Louisville comes in to sight faster because of my efforts, winking in the rising sun.  
“Who’s that?” Calls a guard at the town gate. “State your business.”  
Andy open his mouth to reply, but Michael’s already rushed forwards. “Uncle Mel!” He cries.  
Mel drops his gun, rushing forward to hold his nephew tight. “Michael! It’s you! It’s really you!”  
They’re both crying loud enough to wake the town. A few people stumble out of their houses, one of them holding a plastic banana like a gun with a confused expression on his face.  
“Mel? What’s going on?” A curvy woman with an anxious look on her face pushes through the crowd. She gasps when she sees Michael.  
“He’s here Laura. He’s safe.”  
“Michael?” I’ve never seen anyone look so relieved in my life. “You were meant to arrive a week ago! Are you okay?” Michael just sobs harder and she joins the hug, clinging on for dear life. I feel tears in my own eyes as I watch their reunion. Laura strokes Michael’s face.  
“Where’s your mother? Where’s Zoe?” Michael’s lips trembles as he stutters out a reply.  
“Raiders. She’s gone Auntie.”  
The woman sucks in a deep breath. “We’re so sorry Michael. Come on, I’ll take you inside and get you something to eat.” She leads him away as he clings tight to her hand, crying harder than I’ve ever seen him before.  
“Who are you two?” Asks a young man with a beard like a goat. “Do you know what happened?”  
“We’re just a couple of travelers that happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Andy replies. “If it’s alright with you we’d like to come in and restock our supplies.”  
A wide grin splits the man’s face. “After saving Mel’s nephew? We owe you. Come right on in and make yourselves at home.”

The townspeople want details, want to know what happened, but we tell them that we’ll be talking to Michael’s family before anyone else. They accept our answer, but won’t leave us alone, desperate not to miss a thing. Its midday before Michael’s family comes out again, they call us over the moment they spot us.  
“He’s asleep now.” Laura says. “Thank you so much for bringing him home.”  
“Our pleasure.” Andy says with a smile.  
“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” Mel looks tired under his relief.  
I cast around for a name. “I’m Nora. This is Andy. We’re just kind of wandering around.”  
“Can you tell us what happened? Michael isn’t saying a thing.”  
Andy sighs. “Raiders found them while they were travelling. His mother was dead when we arrived. We fought them off and got him out. I’m sorry we couldn’t do better.”  
“You’ve done plenty!” Mel exclaims. “I thought I’d never see my nephew again. I can accept that my sister died, it’s not your fault. He would be gone too if you hadn’t saved him.”  
“He’s a good kid.” I say. “He actually saved my life when we were fighting off the raiders.”  
“Did he?” Laura grins, even if her eyes still look sad. “He must take after his mother, Zoe was always a fighter. Remember when she used to beat you up Mel?”  
“As if I could ever forget. She didn’t let me have a moment of peace.”  
“Are you two okay? Raiders can be tough.”  
“We’re fine.” I tell her. “They’re not as tough as us.”  
“Well put.” says Nora. Mel smiles at me, eyes still red from crying.  
“You should know that we gave Michael a box full of chems to carry.” Andy informs them. “He said that the doctor here would be able to use them.”  
“Jan? She’ll be delighted.”  
“You should probably take Michael to see her too.” I say. “He’s had a really tough time.”  
Mel’s face pales, but he clenches his jaw. “Tell me.”

Once they know about the camp they begin to cry again. We comfort them as well as we can, but what do you say in a situation like this? After they dry their tears Mel invites us in for a meal. My stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since yesterday. The meal of gecko meat is welcome, as is the offer of real beds for the night.  
“Free of charge.” The innkeeper tells us. “You deserve it after saving Mel’s boy.”  
Twin beds and fresh sheets. They even have a shower. It’s an amazing feeling, getting clean after being covered in dust for so long, and it’s only made better when I curl up under the sheets. It’s been a long day, but in a good way. So many people thanking us, offering us rewards. I can’t help smiling at their generosity.  
“Nice, isn’t it. Helping people.” Andy says.  
“Yeah. It’s good to see them so happy.”  
“We should stay in town a while. They’re having a feast to celebrate Michael’s safe return and want us to be there.”  
“I have no problems with that.” It’s not just the lure of more food either. I want to see the people I helped again.  
Its strange waking up in a bed rather than a pile of blankets on the ground. My neck clicks as I stretch out. “Morning.” I call to Andy.  
“Five more minutes.” He moans, pulling a pillow over his head.  
“Fine. Sleep as long as you want. I’m going for a run.”

People smile as I pass by, some of them wave at me too. I pass a clinic, noticing that the doctor is sitting outside, sorting through the chems we brought her. She nods at me briefly before getting right back to work. There are less fields here than in Arroyo, the colours more brown than green.

“Our business is repair.” An old man tells me when I ask. “We grow enough to tide us over but the real money comes from people wanting their one-of-a-kind weapons fixed up. Then we buy food from traders.”  
“Many caravans come through this area?” I ask.  
“Oh yes. They need weapon repairs too, whether they’re planning on selling them or using them. And they know we’ll buy their food.”  
I thank him and continue on my way. The goat-bearded teenager from earlier calls me over as I pass.  
“You’re Nora right?” I nod. “The name’s Grant, the best energy weapons you’ll ever find are built by me. Wanna take a shot?”  
“What with?” I’ve only ever used laser pistols in the past, and never found them to be very powerful.  
“Let me show you my favourite.” He pulls an intricate looking gun from a box at his side. “This is the first, and best, plasma rifle I ever built, back before I knew that you couldn’t make something that packs this much power.”  
I eye it carefully. It looks heavy, but that doesn’t mean anything. “How does it work?”  
“Never seen plasma weapons before?” I shake my head. “You’re missing out! Let me show you what this baby can do.”  
There’s a shooting range around the back of the general store. It offers bullseyes and bottles to shoot at. Smirking, Grant pulls a bag of flour out from under the store and pulls it up on a rope.  
“If I shoot at the targets I’m going to wreck them.” He explains. “And the bottles just melt when the shot gets close so I can’t tell if I hit them.”  
“Are you sure you’re allowed to do that?”  
“As long as I pay for it nobody really minds.”  
I nod. “Okay then. Show me what this gun can do.”  
A green flash fills the air. Flour goes everywhere as a bolt of plasma punches through the bag, leaving a smoking hole right through the middle of it. I get up close for a better look and see the back is in even worse shape. Tatters of burlap are all that’s left. I can smell them burning.  
“Holy shit.”  
Grant laughs. “Holy shit is right. This thing’s powerful.”  
He freezes as a man comes running out of the store. “God dammit Grant!” He yells. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t steal the flour!”  
“Sand doesn’t look as impressive.”  
“Do I look like I give a flying fuck what-” He cuts of abruptly as I step out from behind the remains of the bag. A laugh tumbles out of his mouth. “I should have known Grant. I should have known.”  
A red flush rises in Grant’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Keep trying Grant. One day you’ll find someone that’s as much of a plasma geek as you. But while you’re looking could you please avoid shooting my flour? People need to eat that.”  
“Wait.” I look from the shopkeeper’s grin to Grant’s red face. “What’s going on here?”  
“Ah, anytime Grant finds someone he thinks is attractive he starts shooting at my bags of flour to try and impress them.” Grant looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up.  
“I don’t do that!”  
“You it that every time that caravaneer with the green eyes you always rave about comes past. Tell me, has it ever worked on him?”  
“Once.”  
I glance at him. “Attractive?”  
“I- uh, I just think you’re really cool. You saved that kid’s life and-”  
“Um thanks Grant. But I’m not really interested.”  
He sighs. “Fine, do you still want to try the gun though?”  
“Hell yeah I do.”  
“Use a bag of sand this time!” Calls the shopkeeper as he heads back.

The door slams as I bounce up the stair. Andy glances up from his book as I enter our room. “You’re smiling. What did you do now?”  
“Andy.” I say seriously. “I have got to get a plasma rifle one of these days.”  
“Better start saving your caps then. Those things aren’t cheap.”  
“They’re awesome though.”  
“They are.”  
We spend the rest of the day talking. Not about anything in particular, the conversation isn’t anything memorable or important, but it’s nice. I like being able to sit here where it’s safe and talk about nothing, even if my feet itch and my eyes turn to the distance. Eventually Andy points out the window to the gathering crowd.  
“We should get down there.” He says. “Looks like its beginning.”

It’s more awkward being in the spotlight than I thought it would be. I don’t know how Andy stays calm with all those eyes on him, but he only smiles and makes polite conversation. I avoid speaking by keeping my mouth filled with food and drink. At least the food is good. Still, it’s a relief when we’re on the road again, bellies full and town fading into the desert behind us.

“You didn’t like all the attention did you?” Andy asks.  
I shake my head. “Next town we go to, could we try not to stick out so much?”  
“We’ll try. Don’t expect me to stop helping people though.”  
“No, I don’t expect that.” I say. “If feeling uncomfortable for a while means that someone’s life is better, then I can handle it.”  
Andy looks at me like I’m a puzzle with missing pieces. “It’s not exactly polite, but we could just move on after helping people.”  
“Please. Let’s go with that.”  
“All work, no recognition?” He shakes his head with a look of wonder on his face. “You’re a rare person.”  
Blood rushes to my cheeks and I duck my head, embarrassed. “Where to next?”  
Andy takes a moment to think. “You know, I’d really like to show you Vault City. It’s full of elitist jerks, but if you can ignore them it’s quite an interesting place.”


	8. Bitter Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! Sorry for the lateness in getting this posted, I've been flat out busy studying.

A massive sand storm swallows us up on our way there, and we spend days holed up in a cave waiting for it to pass. When all that remains of the storm are little whirling pools of dust we cross mountains to find a band of raiders holding up a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, pointing their weapons at a terrified family. True to his word, once the raiders are dead Andy leads the way to cover. We watch the family recover, clinging tight to each other, before we move on.  
Vault City is clean, the people, the buildings, even the way people act seems clean. It sends shivers down my spine, the bleached, bone-like whiteness of the place. It’s only when the city is behind us I can breathe easy again, even if my breaths are short from running.  
  
“Well.” Andy wheezes, doubling up beside me. “I don’t think we’ll be able to go back there for a while.”  
I spit towards the town, even though it’s out of sight now. “Good riddance. That place was creepy.”  
“You need to work on your honesty.”  
“I was plenty honest!” I protest.  
“That’s the problem.”  
I shake my head. “Sorry Andy.”  
He waves my apology away like a swarm of flies. “It’s not like I’ll be missing the company there, and maybe they’ll forget in time. Who knows?”  
“Yeah, well in the meantime can we go somewhere that’s the exact opposite of Vault City?”  
“If you want to head to Reno then you’ll have to make a few promises.”  
“Wait, it exists? I was joking.”  
“Rule one: Don’t take anything they offer you a “free taste” of. It’s not worth it and might be ground up Brahmin shit.”  
I honestly can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “That’s fair.”  
“Rule two: Don’t antagonize anyone. You never know who they might be or who they might have connections to so if in doubt, be nice.”  
“I can do that. Probably.”  
“And last but not least, rule three: For the love of all things holy don’t steal from the casinos. Don’t steal booze, don’t steal food, just don’t.”  
“We don’t have to go Andy, you don’t seem all that comfortable with it.”  
“I’ve been to worse places. Besides, not everything in New Reno’s bad. I’d like to watch a show again.”  
  
It barely takes me a day to get into the spirit of Reno. I love the music, even if I know I can’t make it myself. Andy smiles as he shows me a bag full of caps.  
“We’re set for a while now. Do you want to hang around or spend these somewhere else?”  
I shrug. “Open road is calling, but I kinda like the casinos even if somebody could try ripping my arm off at any moment.”  
“Another week then?”  
“Sounds good.” I smile. “But do we have enough money to pay for food?”  
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I can take care of it.”  
I begin introducing myself as Jolene and Andy teaches me blackjack. When we leave this time, with no particular destination in mind, my pockets are heavy with my winnings.  
  
Sand and rocks stretch out in front of us, and we head for the hills as the sun climbs in the sky. We explore them for weeks, finding something new every day. Packs of nightstalkers, a massive grove of broc flowers, and finally, one day when the sun’s at its hottest and we’re searching for shelter, a giant metal door.  
“What on earth is that?” I ask.  
Andy wipes a thick layer of dirt away, revealing a faded yellow 71. “We’ve found a vault, like the one at the city. Back away, slowly.”  
“What?”  
“If there’s not something that’s already killed everyone that lived here, then there’ll be a group of people inside that aren’t likely to be the most stable. Let’s just find somewhere else to-”  
A crackling sound from a nearby rock interrupts him.  
“Hello?” A high voice calls from nowhere. “Is somebody out there?”  
Andy take a deep breath. “Yes, yes we’re here. We don’t want any trouble, so let’s just agree to go our separate ways, no harm done.”  
The voice is silent for so long I think that whoever it is must have left, but then it speaks again. “How are you standing out there in all that? How are you surviving?”  
“In what?” I ask in confusion.  
“Come inside. We need to talk.”  
A mechanical shriek pierces the air, grinding through a pulsing siren as the door slides open. I glance towards Andy. “What do you think?” I ask.  
“Just like anywhere else. Any problems, we fix them. Any threats, we take them out.” I can’t tell who he’s trying to convince, me or himself, but we make our way through the door together.  
  
A harried looking woman with dark hair in soft waves around her face meets us. “In there.” She says, gesturing towards a small room. “I don’t know what’s going on here but if you’re carrying any contaminants on your clothes then I’m not having them in here.”  
I turn towards the room, but Andy holds me in place. “Let me have a look at the system first. I want to make sure that it’s safe.”  
She gives us a suspicious glare, but gestures towards a computer. “Check on them over there, but make it quick.”  
While Andy taps at the keys I watch over his shoulder as green letters scroll past rapidly. He navigates to a file marked Decontamination Chamber and scans through quickly. I stumble through behind him, able to catch the words “radiation” and “perfected the concentration.” As well as “hair loss.” I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but from the look on Andy’s face I can tell it isn’t good news. More tapping and his eyes widen.  
“What the fuck?”  
I can’t tell what he’s doing, the symbols on the screen mean nothing to me. He glances towards the woman standing anxiously in the corner. “What’s your password?”  
Her brow furrows. “All these files are public. I’ve never had one.”  
The keys clatter as he furiously types, turning the computer off and on again until something makes him slap his hand on the desk. “Got it!” He yells as a welcome message displays. “It was corvid.”  
Confusion written clearly across her face, the woman moves to look at the screen. “What did you find?”  
“Not sure yet.” Andy murmurs, absorbed in the new messages on display. His eyes seem to blur as he reads, and I can’t even try to keep up now. I turn to the bemused woman instead.  
“You didn’t know these were here?”  
“No.” She seems distracted, anxious. I can hardly blame her. “I wonder what-”  
“See for yourselves.” Andy’s face is grim.  
A green message is on the screen he turns towards us, glowing softly.  
  
_Notes for Chamber Solution 461 is a success. Subjects displayed advanced symptoms of COPD just two minutes after exposure, much faster than before. Hair loss also accompanies the lung degeneration, and the neurotoxin is still as effective as ever. Estimated survival rate over half an hour: 0% if subject receives 4 or more seconds exposure. Illness in not contagious and is incurable as well as being sped up over 400%. Use this mixture in Vault 71’s decontamination chamber._  
  
The woman’s face is a mask of perfect horror. “What is this?” She asks shakily. “Where did you find it?”  
“This Vault has a hidden network. Details of the experiments done here are kept on it from before.”  
“Experiments? But the Vault’s meant to be safe.”  
Andy sighs, like he’s had this conversation before. “Short version is this. Vault-Tec was made for social experiments and you’re not part of the control group. We’re lucky this is the same computer that was used in the building of the vault, otherwise we’d have to guess what was happening.”  
“The first sentry here did have a hand in the vault’s design. I never knew what part though.”  
“Right, well let’s start over. I’m Andy, who are you?”  
“Sentry Amna Mikhail.”  
“Okay Sentry Mikhail. We’re not going through that chamber. Do you still want us in the vault?”  
She nods. “Are there any more notes here? Anything to tell us what’s going on?”  
“Everything’s here.” He promises. “I didn’t get a look at the experiment notes but I’ll pull them up.” A few more taps and a new message displays.  
  
_Vault 71 (Survival in an environment of extreme fear.)_  
_Vault 71 will test the ability of humans to survive with threats, real or perceived, surrounding them at every moment. No entrance or exit from the vault should be permitted for the first forty years, after which time it is to be highly discouraged through the use of the decontamination chamber simulating radiation sickness. Vault will be place in an isolated area and surrounded by hostile creatures to discourage those outside from remaining in the area. Inadequate stations for the growing and preparation of food are to be prepared, further increasing the stress of the subjects and the likelihood of illness. The reactor will require constant maintenance as it has been designed to be far more unstable than the norm. Radiation leaks will be constant and living quarters will be arranged in such a way that makes fires likely within. All equipment faulty and liable to malfunction in a potentially lethal manner. Various dangerous creatures have been placed in stasis in hidden chambers and are to be released at 10 year intervals. No doctors have been assigned to this vault, but a few individuals that failed medical school have been permitted entrance. No information of the experiment is to be given to general population of Vault. Estimated time until failure: 3 generations._  
  
The sentry seems horrified. “But, the last incident with an invasion of wild animals killed my sister. Now you’re telling me it was done on purpose?”  
“They’ve killed a lot of people over the years Sentry.” Andy says. “And not just here.”  
Her eyes flash with rage. “I hope the monsters that designed this burned when the bombs fell.”  
“What do you want to do now?” I ask her.  
“Everyone needs to know. I’m not the only one that lost someone over this. By the looks of it nearly everyone in the Vault that died was murdered. No one is going to stand for this.”  
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”  
At Andy’s words, she turns her rage on him. “The people here have a right to know!”  
He holds up a hand to stop her. “I agree. But look at this.” He points at the screen. “The instructions are that the general populace isn’t to know. What about the overseer?”  
“The overseer is my uncle. If he knew something he would have said so.”  
“Nonetheless, you need to make sure.”  
She sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Clean up, put on these suits, and I’ll tell them that you went through the chamber.”  
“Do you have a plan?”  
“Something like that. Basically, my thinking is that if anyone knows about the experiment then they’ll make a move when they see you’re not dying.”  
“Fair enough.” I say. “Andy, you in?”  
He nods. “We’ll help you out.”  
  
I can’t help pulling at the neck of the suit as we follow Sentry Mikhail down the halls. Thankfully, the place is deserted except for the three of us.  
“Where’s the rest of the Vault?” I ask.  
“Work most likely. Anyone with free time will be in the nurseries. They’ve got the lowest incident rate out of all the areas of the Vault.”  
“Is that where you’re taking us?”  
“No. We’ll stop by so everyone can see you, but our destination is my uncle’s office.”  
The room is full of people with tired eyes that don’t seem to see me even if they’re trained right on my face. “Your attention please.” Calls Sentry Mikhail in a smooth, professional voice. “It seems that, for once in my life, I actually need to do my job. We’ve got visitors.”  
“Well, then you’ve done more than any other sentry I’ve ever met.” Says a short man with glasses and a burn scar on his arm. “What now?”  
“Overseer’s office. I just thought that the rest of you might want to witness this madness.”  
“You’ll never be this busy again Amna.”  
She smirks. “Well, here’s hoping. I couldn’t cope with this every day.”  
A smile touches the man’s dead eyes. “You’ll be telling your grandkids about this. The time you actually had to work. Do you need a doctor on standby?”  
“That would be nice, yes. Thanks Tatsuhi.”  
“My pleasure.” His dark eyes meet mine. “Best of luck to the lot of you.”  
I nod in reply, and the sentry lets the door swing shut.  
“The news’ll be all over the Vault by lights out.” She says. “Any chance of getting rid of us quietly just went out the window.”  
“Nice work.” Andy says as we approach a door marked Overseer.  
“Uncle Ziyad?” Calls Sentry Mikhail. “It’s me, Amna.”  
The door slides open with a hiss of hydraulics and a round face pops out from behind it, wearing a drained expression. “Amna, you know how much I appreciate your visits, but I’m very busy right now. I need to assign three new people to the engineering team and-” He breaks off suddenly as he sees me and Andy. Unable to resist, I wave at him.  
“I’m not here for a social call. We’ve got outsiders visiting. Regulations state that after decontamination I am to take them to you.”  
He nods, no doubt going over the extra work our arrival means for him. “In that case, come in.”  
He gestures to a couch pushed against the wall as we walk in. “Why don’t you two introduce yourselves?”  
“This is Andy, I’m Dawn. We were travelling through the area when we found your vault.”  
“For the record I said to keep away.” Andy says. “If you don’t want us here blame Dawn.”  
“Ah, screw you Andy.”  
“Enough.” The Overseer doesn’t seem angry, just wearier than before. “I won’t lie to you, your arrival is unprecedented, as is meeting you. I was only a child when the last outsiders came, and they died before even leaving the entrance chamber.”  
“Oh, that’s horrible.” Andy says. “Do you have any idea why?”  
“As the same thing happened when our people left, I assumed that the environment makes surface living impossible.” His eyes grow piercing. “But you both seem perfectly healthy.”  
“Well, I guess you’re safe here. Above ground can get a little crazy sometimes.”  
The Overseer glances at his niece. “Amna, back to your post. I want to talk to our guests alone.”  
Hesitantly, she nods, throwing one anxious glance over her shoulder as she leaves.  
“You say it’s safe down here? Truth is, I don’t even know if we’ll grow enough food to get us through the month. Accidents just keep happening, and nothing I do stops them. Safety, I don’t know the meaning of the word anymore. But if you’re here, alive, healthy, then we might have a chance.”  
“What’s your plan?” I ask.  
“Stay here, just for a few days. Let us monitor you and see the effects the wasteland has had on your bodies. If we’re lucky, and I mean very, very lucky, we can move to the surface.”  
I glance at Andy, and I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing. If we stay, that gives the overseer a chance to administer the toxin a different way. But his eyes are hardened with resolve.  
“I’m okay with that.” He says. “Dawn?”  
Nothing that happens could be as bad as not knowing what’s going on. “Sure.”  
A real, genuine smile breaks through the exhaustion on the overseer’s face. “Thank you. Please go down to the clinic as soon as possible for your examination. Just follow the signs.” And with that, he waves us towards the door. The Sentry meets us outside. “I heard everything.” She whispers. “Do you think he knows?”  
“Not sure.” Andy replies.  
“If he’s acting then he’s damn good at it.” I say. “Did you see his face when we agreed to help? Seemed real to me.”  
“Maybe it was.” Andy’s voice echoes slightly as we move down the hall. “I guess we’ll find out.”  
The silence that follows does nothing to ease the tension that hangs in the air like early morning fog. Finally, we arrive. Sentry Mikhail taps her hand absentmindedly against her thigh, right where a weapon would be carried. “I can’t stick around, people are going to talk if they think I’m taking a personal interest. But I’ll be back for you by three o’clock. Meet me outside the nursery then if they’ve finished prodding at you.”  
“We appreciate it Sentry.” Andy smiles.  
“Please, call me Amna. Nobody calls me sentry unless they’re making fun of me.”  
“Amna then. Good luck.”  
She snorts. “Keep your luck. Chances are you’ll be needing it more than me.”  
Her footsteps clatter down the hall, and I take a deep breath to steady myself.  
  
The doctors are so wrapped up in layers of protection that they barely look human. I fight the urge to run as one of them grabs my arm to wrap a band around it.  
“They’re just checking your blood pressure Dawn, nothing to worry about.” Andy says.  
I endure the tests, the measuring of my height, the testing my reflexes and vision, but when they come after me with a needle I scramble off the table to safety.  
“No.” I growl.  
“We just need a blood sample” The doctor says in a tired voice. “It won’t hurt that much.”  
I refuse to let the gentle words comfort me. “I said no.”  
Everyone’s on edge. They’re not leaving without blood, and I’m not letting them put that needle anywhere near me. Reluctantly, I decide to compromise. Andy’s mouth falls open in surprise as I scrape my nails into my arm, digging until crimson begins to leak up to stain my skin.  
“Fine, there’s your blood.” I say, much calmer now. “So take a sample before I change my mind.”  
The doctors scurry into action, dabbing up my blood and carting it away. I catch Andy’s eye from behind their backs as they turn to him, desperately trying to communicate to him that he should not let those needles full of god-knows-what anywhere near his body.  
“I’d be a lot more comfortable if you let me draw the blood myself.” He says mildly. “I don’t like having strange people sticking needles into me.” The doctors shrug and hand him the syringe. I watch as he examines it closely before wiping it off with a towel that smells so strongly of alcohol it makes my nose itch from across the room.  
  
Time drags on as the doctors do test after test after test. I’m beginning to think that they’re repeating things.  
“Is this going to take much longer?” I ask as they check my pulse for the fifth time.  
“Be patient.” One of the doctors scolds. “We’re just being through.”  
“I think we crossed the line from through to just plain obsessive a while back. Anything really important you need before we leave?”  
The doctor’s eyes widen as she turns to face Andy. “We haven’t even started on the psychological exams yet!”  
“Well maybe you should have done that rather than checking our radiation levels nine times!”  
Andy grabs my arm to hold me back even though I’m not planning on making a move. “We’ll probably be here for a while, after all the Overseer wanted to monitor us, not just run a few tests. We’ll come back later.” None of the doctors seem pleased, but after we showed a clean bill of health they have no excuse to hold us against our will. The door swishes open as we exit.  
  
“What’s the time?” I ask, jogging to keep up with Andy.  
“Ten to three. I counted.”  
“Will we make it?”  
Only silence answers me. Startled, I glance around to find nothing but an empty hallway. “Andy?” I call, stepping forward.  
They seem to come out of the walls, the strong hands that grab me. I fight with everything I have, but someone holds a damp cloth to my mouth. The cold impersonal grey of the metal surrounding me fades, turning into black as I choke and splutter, trying desperately to regain the use of my arms.  
  
My head is pounding. I groan, trying to move forward, but I’m only able to twitch my hands before I’m bought to a standstill by iron chains wrapped tight around my arms.  
“So,” Says a woman’s cold voice, “how did you survive the decontamination chamber?”  
I blink up at the silhouette that fades in from the bright white background. “Who the fuck are you?”  
The woman barely seems worried by my tone. “I suppose you wouldn’t recognise me. My name is Doctor Miller. I was part of the team that examined you and your friend.”  
“Yeah, because that answers all my fucking questions right?”  
A sharp slap rings through the silent room. “Your questions don’t matter here, only ours do. I’ll ask you again, how did you survive?”  
“You wouldn’t have answered me if my questions didn’t matter.”  
She blinks at me. “I take it you’re going to be difficult then?”  
“Fuck you.”  
“That’s what I thought.” She settles gracefully on a chair in front of me, flanked by guards. “Then let’s have a nice chat before we get down to business.”  
Silence stretches out before us, heavy and sickly. To my shame, I’m the one to break it.  
“You’re with Vault-Tec, aren’t you?”  
Her neat eyebrow shoot up. “You have done your homework, well done. Nothing by halves.”  
“Lady, I’m not trying to impress you, I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is happening here.”  
“Then I can assure you, we have similar goals.”  
“Something tells me your end game doesn’t involve me walking out of here alive.”  
“Perhaps, perhaps not. Your safety depends on you now.”  
“Says the woman that works with the people that endanger her home.”  
I watch as her eye twitches. “The data collected makes continuing our ancestors’ work the only logical path. All the insight we gained on the human mind, how it behaves under pressure, is beyond worth it. The secrecy, the lies, the deaths. Every part of this is worth it.”  
“Is that how you sleep at night?”  
She waves her hand, shooing her doubts away like a swarm of bugs. “It matters little who dies if it helps us learn.”  
I lunge at her, forgetting about the chains for a moment. “Who gave you the right?” I yell. “Who said that you can treat people like this, like their lives mean nothing?”  
She hits me again, hard enough that I taste blood. “We take the right little girl. And in the interest of progress, the lives of individuals do mean nothing. My life, your life, the lives of every person in this vault. Every one of these is a small sacrifice, and one that I would make in a heartbeat.”  
“Then kill me already! Protect your precious fucking progress that you love so much that you’d kill your own family over it!” She stares at me coldly while I scream obscenities at her. “Come on Miller, what are you waiting for?”  
“Your answer.”  
“Go to Hell, that’s the only answer you’ll get.”  
“Very well then.” She motions to one of her cronies, bidding him to hand her a folder. “You seem to have suffered quite an interesting array of injuries. Broken bones, torn ligaments, the works.” She holds up a picture to the light, allowing me to see the bones in it. “As a matter of fact, we found some fascinating data in these x-rays of your hands.”  
I refuse to answer her inquisitive look.  
“You see this evidence of healing right here?” She points at a slightly darker spot near my fingers. “This shows evidence of a pattern of breakage that indicates a heavy object was bought down on your hand, hard enough to break the bone. Perhaps many times.”  
Memories come flooding back, breaking free from the box I’d kept them locked in for so long.  
  
_“Honestly girl, what were you thinking, running off like that?”_  
_“I’m sorry mother!” I cry as the rock smashes my hand a second time. “I’ll never hide from you again, I promise!”_  
_A sob rips its way from my chest as she brings the rock down one last time, harder than before. “Give me your other hand.” She says coldly._  
  
I shake my head. No, I’m not in the cave anymore, I have other things to worry about.  
“She’s back with us.” Says a short, thin man in glasses.  
“Excellent.” Miller’s voice is less cold, but far more malicious, as though she’s having fun. “Begin the procedure.”  
I fight as best I can, biting when they come too close, lashing out, but chained as I am, it does little good. Two of her goons hold my head still while a third blindfolds me. I thrash even harder when I feel my hands being freed, but I’m pinned down again in a matter of seconds, my hand out in front of me, lying flat on a table.  
“It was a good idea.” Miller’s behind me now, circling back in front of me as she speaks. “But you’d know that better than I would. After all, you were the one that felt the effects. Did you cry? I bet you did, just like you cried when you remembered it.” Something heavy slams into the metal surface, barely inches away from my hand. I can’t stop my fingers from twitching.  
“Answer still hasn’t changed.” I sound much braver than I feel.  
Whatever they’re slamming on the table pinches my fingertips on the next blow. Keeping silent is a struggle, but I manage it. “Of course it hasn’t. Really, I’d be disappointed if it had. But it doesn’t matter if you change your mind or not.” Her voice is getting further away now. “Because we’ve got different plans. Michael, read the relevant data please.”  
“Over the course of our studies we have discovered that people are most reluctant to give up information when they feel a sense of loyalty or they feel the need to protect someone.” A nasally voice drones somewhere to my left.  
“You touch Andy and I’ll kill every one of you!” I snarl.  
“That wasn’t the plan. You’re far too aggressive for an approach like that to be fully effective.” I feel sweat trickling down my forehead at her words, even before she finishes speaking. “This technique will work much better when applied to your friend, with you as the subject.”  
I grit my teeth. If they’re telling the truth then I can’t make a sound. But it’s useless. I can barely hold back a scream of pain as my fingers break. Another blow makes me whimper, and by the third the blindfold is soaking up tears that spring free as I focus on keeping silent.  
This would be a lot easier if I could fight back. I’m barely aware of my surroundings until I hear Andy’s voice.  
“I’ll tell you okay? Just stop it!”  
“Andy, no.” I say weakly. “It’s not worth it.”  
Silence fills the room, settling on my shoulders like a heavy backpack. “Well Mr Hernandez,” Miller asks coolly. “Do you agree with her assessment?”  
“I, I don’t know.”  
“Perhaps you need more time to think.” At some unseen signal the weight crashes down again. “We have plenty of time, think as long as you want.”  
“It’s worth it!” Andy shouts. “She’s worth saving, just back away, please!”  
“Touching.” Miller sneers. “Tell me what you know and we can all go home safe.”  
“Don’t.”  
Andy ignores me. “We had help.”  
“Interesting. How long have you been in contact with one of our residents?”  
“About six months.”  
I twitch, not from surprise at the lie, but because someone is touching my back. “Don’t move.” They breathe in my ear. “Not until you get a signal.”  
Slowly, I nod. The locks holding me down scrape quietly as they’re picked. A click, and the chains release me. I ease my mangled hands free to get rid of the stupid blindfold. My heart thunders with each quiet sound the chain makes.  
  
The light is brighter than I remember, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. The first thing I see is Andy’s comforting smile as he says anything that comes to mind.  
“None of it matters now that we know how you got in.” Miller interrupts him. Her focus and the focus of all the guards is trained on his lies. “You have identified the individuals responsible, and all parties involved in this mess will be terminated. Including you two.”  
His smile only grows wider as he stares up at her. “That’s what you think. NOW!”  
I leap into action, tackling the guard closest to me and grabbing his weapon as well as I can in my current state.  
“Don’t let them escape!” Roars Miller as I succeed in knocking out the now weaponless guard with his own baton.  
“Fuck you lady!” I yell back.  
She’s making her way toward the chair where Andy’s being held, a small but deadly looking syringe in her hand. A pair of her goons go flying as I charge past them to tackle her to the ground.  
“This is for kidnapping us!” I yell as I strike her across her back. I strike the spot again as I continue my tirade. “This is for the people you killed.”  
“And this is for what you put Andy through!” I scream as my fist shatters her nose.  
Dead, unconscious, I can’t tell, but she’s not a threat right now. I sprint towards Andy.  
“Nice work.” He says with a shaky smile.  
“You too.”  
The locks don’t want to budge, they’re far beyond my ability to pick anyway, even if I had a bobby pin. “Does she have a key?”  
Andy shrugs. “I’d say it’s our best bet.”  
The fight is clearing up a bit I find the key, our unknown saviour seems to be quite the warrior. By the time Andy’s free, we’re the only three people left standing in the room. She turn to face us with a grim look.  
“We have to get out of here.”  
“Amna?” Things don’t seem to be making sense. “What are you doing here?”  
“Saving both your asses, you two want to move out or are you waiting around for them to come back?”  
She gestures towards the exit, almost vibrating with nervous energy. We don’t waste any more time talking, we just follow her lead through the passageways.  
The sirens don’t even slow her down when they begin to howl. Amna marches onwards her face set like a stone. I clutch my hands to my chest as we head for the exit.  
“Wait, Amna.” Andy calls out. “What are we doing?”  
She doesn’t break her stride to answer him. “We’re getting the hell out of dodge. Staying here’s too dangerous now.”  
“But what about everyone else here? What about your family?”  
“They’d understand. Now let’s move!” And with that she shoves us out through the enormous, barely open door.  
  
We barely get past before it begins to roll shut again. Amna throws my bag to me.  
“I grabbed this before, in case we had to run. Yours too Andy.”  
Andy barely seems present. “We need to get back inside!” He yells, frantically searching the door for an opening that isn’t there. Amna just stares at him, confused.  
“Why? Odds are we’ll die if we do that.”  
“For everyone else! For the people stuck living in this fucking deathtrap!”  
“There’s no way back in. Believe me, guarding this door was my job. I know everything about it.”  
“There’s got to be. Why would you run away Amna?”  
“Well not dying does have its perks.”  
“Would you two just calm down for a second?” I interrupt.  
“Thank you!” Amna says. “He’s being completely irrational.”  
I sigh. “Actually I think Andy’s right, but I’m also in quite a lot of pain right now and would like to deal with it in peace.”  
Andy’s eyes flick down towards my shattered hands, guilt clouding his face as he realises. “Here.” He says, holding out a couple of stimpaks. I nod my thanks and get on with healing myself.  
“What do we do now?” Amna asks me as my bones click into place. “I’ve never been outside the vault before.”  
“Doesn’t matter right now. We need to help everyone left behind.” I reply.  
“Even if we can get back inside they’ll kill us. Nobody’s gonna listen when you say that they’re being experimented on. Getting out was the only thing to do.”  
“You believed it.”  
“But I had proof right in front of my eyes.”  
“Listen, just open the vault for us.” Andy says. “If you don’t want to go back then we’ll do it ourselves.”  
Amna stares at us. “You’re both mad.”  
“Are you going to help us or not?”  
She throws up her hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. Just don’t expect me to save your asses a second time.”  
“Once was more than we asked for.” Andy says. “Thank you Amna.”  
A look of surprised flits across her face. She nods at Andy, and I think I see her smile as she turns away.  
  
It’s not long before we discover that re-entering the vault won’t be anywhere near that easy.  
“But I thought you had the access code!” Andy cries as the door refuses to budge.  
“They must have changed it, and the security on the exterior door is really tight. This thing’s shut for good.” She frowns at our stricken faces. “Why do you care anyway? You don’t even know these people.”  
“That’s not the point! The point is that there are people suffering, maybe even dying, and it’s all my fault!”  
“Whoa, Andy calm down a second.”  
“We can’t do nothing! There has to be something. An escape passage, or, or a ventilation system-”  
“Andy.” Amna’s cool voice interjects. “It’s over.”  
I stare at the door, immovable as the mountains that surround us, and I know she’s right. “We should get moving, find some Followers to help Amna.”  
Andy makes no move to hide the tears that are beginning the leak from his eyes. “I should’ve done more when I had the chance.”  
“It’ll be okay Andy.”  
“How many people were in there? How many did I let down?”  
Amna looks at his stricken face with something akin to pity. “There is one thing left I can try.”  
“What? Do it! Whatever it is, please!”  
Amna smooths back her hair as she makes her way over to the hidden microphone that she called us in with. “This is Sentry Amna Mikhail calling from the outside, does anyone copy?” She waits a moment before repeating herself, but only silence answers her. Shaking her head, she changes her message.  
“To whoever is listening to this, I escaped the vault because our lives are endangered for the sake of experiments that seem to have no end point. If you need more information files can be accessed through the sentry’s computer, everything from floorplans to countdowns. But be warned, there are some in the vault that see upholding these experiments as their job. The password is corvid, I hope you have better luck than I did. And Uncle Ziyad, I’m so sorry I left you.”  
“Will it be enough?” Andy asks as we retrace our steps to the nearest town. Amna hesitates for a moment before answering.  
“I think it is.”  
Andy smiles at this, but I don’t. I know full well she’s lying.


	9. Stagnant

Things are different with Andy. In the few days it takes for us to reach the last town we stopped in he seems nervous. Sometimes I catch him awake far before sunrise, smoking cigarette after cigarette. His smiles seem too big, his attention drifts, and he looks over his shoulder constantly. It sets me on edge, and I find myself jumping at shadows.

“Are you two always this jumpy?” Amna asks as I train my gun on a tumbleweed yet again.  
“No” I say. “I’m not sure what’s happening.”  
Amna shakes her head. “Look, it’s obvious that there’s things going on here that I don’t understand, and I suppose I’ll have to live with that for a while, but it’s clear enough that you two need to have a serious discussion.”  
I glance up ahead to where Andy rests. “You’re probably right. Just, not yet.”  
“Whatever you think’ll work best.”  
I put off talking to Andy. I remain silent as we say our goodbyes to Amna. I remain silent as we start heading south. But finally, I can’t stay silent any more.

I’m on watch when it happens, perched in some scrub just outside the glow of the fire. I ignore Andy’s mutterings at first, passing them off as him talking in his sleep.  
But then he begins to whimper, a sound full of fear and anguish that sends me rushing to his side. Before I can wake him, he starts to scream.  
“Andy! Andy wake up!” I yell as I shake him, not caring who might be around to hear.  
His eyes fly open, wild with panic. I dodge backwards to avoid him as he scrambles away from me. “Don’t hurt me!” He yells. “Just leave me alone!”  
“Andy it’s okay, nobody wants to hurt you.” His fear is contagious, but I do my best to hide it. He doesn’t reply, just rocking back and forth and trying to control his breathing. I do my best to comfort him as the last tendrils of whatever memory haunts him slip away.  
“Are you okay now?” I ask.  
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. But uh, can we speak in the morning?”  
“Of course. Do you want to take the watch now, or do you need me to stay with you?”  
“It’s okay, you can sleep. I just need some time alone right now.”

When I wake the first thing I see is Andy, curled into a tight ball and staring into the dying fire.  
“You wanted to talk?” I say.  
He sighs, sitting up to light a cigarette. “We need to head to Freeside. I know a doctor that can help me with, this.”  
“A doctor? Are you hurt?”  
“Dr. Usanagi is a trained therapist. Something happened to me a long time ago, probably before you were born, and I still need professional support sometimes. Sort of like how I’ve been helping you with the trauma your mother caused.”  
“I’m confused. You said you know how to deal with trauma, so why do you need to talk with someone else?”  
“What I know is what she taught me. And this is something I can’t do alone. I’m sorry to bother you with all this, you don’t have to come with me. I’ll just-”  
“What? Of course I’m coming with you. We’re a team.”  
The corners of Andy’s mouth twitch upwards. “Thank you. I won’t forget this, believe me.”

Freeside isn’t all that much bigger than anywhere I’ve been before. But it’s so much taller. Andy smiles as he sees the look on my face as I crane my head up, trying to see the tops of the buildings.  
“If you think this is amazing you should see Vegas.”  
“You mean that place with the huge tower we’ve been tracking?”  
“Yeah. You can never really appreciate how tall that thing is until you’re standing right in front of it.”  
I strain to see over the multiple fences separating us from The Strip. “What’s it like in there?”  
“Hell if I know. It’s been years since I last visited and it’s had a change of leadership since then. Now you actually have to pay to get in.”  
“Well, I guess we can always check it out when we’ve got a bit more money saved up.”  
“True. Anyway, we’ve got a doctor to track down.”

The group of Followers point us out of the city, towards a newly occupied building they call a medical clinic. Together we walk to the doors, but as Andy moves to open them he hesitates.  
“Something on your mind?” I ask.  
“I’m not sure how to put this…”  
“Andy, you can tell me anything. I promise I won’t get upset.”  
“It’s just that I’m not sure I want to have you here while I talk to the doctor.” He says quickly. “It’s hard enough talking about it to her, I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m… less.”  
“Not a problem. I’ll be hanging around Freeside if you need me. I’m sure I can find something to do for a few hours.”  
Andy doesn’t say a word, but his small smile speaks louder than any words could have. I give him what I hope is an encouraging nod as I make my way back.

Freeside turns out to be two things. Dangerous and, when nobody wants to kill you, boring. The Followers are polite, but don’t need my help with anything. The stores are interesting, but limited. The bar is the only place that holds my interest, and even then I only stay for a couple of rounds. The stories are more interesting than the booze anyway.  
“I’m telling ya!” A woman with cheeks as red as her hair says loudly, her wide gestures endangering everyone near her. “The fucking Deathclaw crawled right out of the rubble. I swear that thing was made of metal or some shit.”  
“Dream on. Not even a Deathclaw could survive that.”  
“You callin’ me a liar?”  
I decide to leave before the inevitable fight breaks out.

When Andy finds me, hours later, I’ve spent quite some time alone with my thoughts.  
“How did it go?” I ask him.  
“Pretty well. We’re going to have to stay here a while but I think I’m going to be able to get myself back on track.”  
“If that’s what you need then that’s what we’ll do. Maybe we could try breaking into The Strip, killer robots be dammed.”  
“We’ll see what happens. What did you do all afternoon?”  
I shrug. “Not really much _to_ do around here. I looked around, beat up some people trying to rob me, went to the bar. Mostly I’ve just been thinking though.”  
“Thought I smelled something burning.”  
“Andy that’s my joke and you know it.”  
“Sorry. What’s on your mind?”  
“I’ve uhhh, I’ve actually been thinking about my mother.” I pretend not to notice as Andy freezes. “It’s just that I’m probably closer to her right now than I’ve been in the past two years. It makes me wonder about her.”  
“Are you-I mean, do you want to go back?”  
“What? No!” I’m shocked that he’s seen that deep into my thoughts. “I mean, I thought about it. But I wouldn’t.”  
“Oh. Good. I would hate to see you go through that again.”  
For some reason I can’t explain, I get the urge to defend my mother. “Well, it could have been worse. You remember all the raiders we’ve seen, the Jackals and stuff. She was better than them at least.”  
Andy’s face is a mask of perfect sorrow. He doesn’t say anything, just sitting down with his back against the nearest wall. After a moment I join him.  
“I know its bullshit.” I say. “But I just can’t stop. I know that I do care about her a bit, even after everything she did. I just-I don’t want her to be bad. She spent so much time teaching me, if she’s bad then after all that so am I.”  
“People aren’t good or bad, not fully. Bad people can do good things, and good people make mistakes. You aren’t your mother, and her goodness or badness doesn’t have to define you.”  
“Yeah. Thanks Andy.” It’s been a long day. The sun is barely on the horizon and I feel heavy, like my blood is turning to lead. I can think about this later. “Do we have enough caps to spend the night in a building this time?”  
“No, but if we head back to the old Mormon Fort the Followers will probably give us a place to rest.”  
“Sounds like a plan.”

Being stuck here is maddening. I do my best to keep busy, exercising, retrieving supplies for the Followers, staring longingly at the plasma rifles that are far out of my price range, but I’m bored. Andy seems to be sleeping easier though. If a little boredom is what it takes for him to get better then I can deal with it. As the days turn to weeks I begin to talk to the people passing through, sometimes making up stories to keep them entertained, remembering what Lillian told me about how much travellers love their stories. In return they tell me about everything happening in the region. Slowly I draw up a list of places I want to see when we finally get moving again.  
The weeks turn to months and I grow tired of dreaming, but refuse to bother Andy with my impatience. But when he announces that we’re able to start travelling again, I can barely hide my excitement.  
“Can we see Hoover Dam?” I ask.  
“Sure! You have the patience of a saint, that’s the least I can do to pay you back.”  
I practically throw his bag to him. “Let’s go! I’m sick to death of being stuck in this place.”


	10. Memories

I look briefly at the rock in my hand before letting it drop. It falls, a speck against the massive sheets of water pouring out of the dam.  
“This is amazing.” I say softly.  
Andy grins at me. “Helleva lot of concrete right? I can’t even imagine how difficult it would be to build something like this now.”  
“It would take so many people to move everything, and I can’t even begin to understand the machinery.”  
A soldier clears his throat behind us. “If you two are finished gawking, can you cross the bloody dam please? I can’t hang around all day.”  
“Oh.” Andy’s face creases into a frown. “Are we doing that?”  
I offer him a shrug. “Why not? We can head south once we get across and see what’s going on. There’s bound to be something interesting down there.”  
“That’s one word for it.” Andy grins.

Interesting. It can mean any number of things. An old book with new ideas, a theory that changes everything.  
Or it can mean running for your life. Something me and Andy seem to do a lot of. We pause at the bottom of a dusty hill to catch our breath as our pursuers struggle through brambles.  
“Assassins. He put a fucking bounty on us Andy.” I gasp.  
“I knew we should’ve left that boss alone. I told you something like this would happen.”  
“That’s not what I remember. I remember you punching Jo Slick in the face when he tried to rob us.”  
“At least I didn’t call Mr Fat Cat a, and I quote, ‘fascist, greasy douche-nozzle’ when he said to explain ourselves.”  
Our argument changes to whispers as we double back around. “At least I didn’t stab Mr Fat Cat’s wife.”  
“She was trying to kill me! What else could I have done?”  
“Look, let’s just accept that we both fucked up and move on.”  
“Or we could head back and fuck up some more.”  
“Nobody could blame us. Besides, I think everyone else in Fairview is sick of living under that shit-headed druglord.”  
“Honestly, that might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever called him.”  
“If he starts using the people of Fairview as anything other than his personal self-filling goldmine, then I’ll say something good.”

The square of buildings used to face a pond, but as we peer past the rusty sign declaring Fairview Apartments, What home looks like, we don’t see water. We don’t even see the dried out pit that the pond has become. We see glowing red flames, towering just as high as the crumbling concrete. Smoke mingles with the screaming of dozens of people and they throw every piece of furniture I saw in Mr Fat Cat’s office into the ravenous flames.  
“Well.” I say in as steady voice as I can. “Looks like we don’t have anything to do here anymore.”  
Andy watches the chaos with a frown. “Someone could get hurt.”  
“How are we gonna help anyone here Andy? It looks like it’s all up to them now.”  
A deep breath might not be the best thing to take in the middle of a smoky riot, but Andy takes one nonetheless. “We’ll send word to some of the other Followers that this place isn’t under Fat Cat’s control anymore, and that they can send doctors in. It’s not much, but at least it’s something.”  
I nod, and together we turn our backs to the scene to head southeast.

Sometimes I wonder what the Followers think when they see us on the horizon. Every time we drag ourselves to an outpost it seems that we have more work for them. Are the Followers here more like Andy, or is it a job to them like Crawford? I don’t know what the team that rushes out thinks, but I still feel the satisfaction of having helped. Andy finds me curled up with my thoughts and some old reports that do nothing to distract me.  
“Do you need a break before heading out?” He asks.  
I shake my head. “I’m just overthinking things right now. We can head out in the morning if you’re okay with that.”  
“Where to?”  
I shuffle through the papers in my hands. “The surrounding areas seem pretty peaceful, so we should head northeast a bit to the nearest town so we can stock up.”  
“Works for me. Anything you need?”  
“A million caps, good food, and world peace?”  
“We can work on that later. How about some rest for now?”  
I glance at the sky, watching the last wisps of orange cloud fade to black. “Rest sounds good. But, uh…”  
“Are you having dreams?”  
“No. I’m just worried about you. Last time we couldn’t save a bunch of people we were in Freeside for half a year. Are you gonna be okay?”  
A sad smile crosses Andy’s face. “Life is good. Better than it’s been for me in a long time. I can handle myself for now. But thank you. It’s good to have someone in my corner.”

It really is.

We change track after Fairview, heading north instead of south. We explore Utah, picking up treasures and our fair share of scars that fade as time passes us by. We stand in the warm summer rain and let the grime flow of our bodies. We backtrack a bit so we can head southeast, watching the landscape change from mountains to salt flats and everything in between. Every day brings something new. A chance to make money, people in need of help, animals that neither of us have seen before. I laugh as Andy tells stories in between mouthfuls of whatever we’re able to scavenge for dinner.  
“And what do you know, right when we thought it was safe, out pops another deathclaw! But this time it’s even worse. As the caravan is sitting there, unable to believe our horrible luck, all her little baby deathclaws come swarming out of the woodwork!”  
“What the hell did you do then?”  
“We ran for it. Scattered to the winds. Two deathclaws were bad enough, but a third one? And all her little hellspawn? No thanks.”  
“Did everyone get out okay?”  
“Oh yes. Lucky for us she hadn’t noticed the five people standing there with shit in their pants. We never got paid for that run though. I lived off scavenged cans of beans for a week before I could find more work.”  
“Speaking of pay, how much money have we got left?”  
“We could probably buy ourselves a couple of Nuka-Colas, but that’d be it. We’re gonna have to start searching for work again soon.”  
“We’ve got enough supplies to last us for a while though. But you’re right. Come morning we’ll head for the place we saw from the hilltop yesterday.”  
“Good plan. I’ll take the first watch.”  
“And I’ll take second.”

The sun has barely touched the sky when we set out to the east. We make good time, and arrive far before midday.  
“Hey!” Andy calls out. “Anyone there?”  
Only the wind answers him, whistling around the decrepit buildings.  
Cautiously, we walk through the town. Nothing attacks us, nobody comes out to greet us. Everything seems abandoned. I glance at Andy.  
“Should we see what’s inside one of these buildings?”  
He shrugs. “It’ll be too hot to travel soon anyway. We might as well.”  
Most of the doors are rusted shut or buried under a few metres of tightly packed red earth. We’ve almost given up when the door to a massive, half buried building creaks open. With a smile, Andy switches on his flashlight and heads in.

A beam of golden sunlight from the open door illuminates the millions of dust particles our feet throw up. “What is this place?”  
Andy shines the flashlight around, checking for traps. “I don’t know. It looks like it’s been abandoned since the war.”  
Wiping the dust from the window doesn’t let in any more light. I turn away, looking for something to prop open the door instead. There are plenty of blocks here that’ll do the trick. Shelves full of them. Curious, I take a closer look.  
“Holy- Hey Andy?”  
He materialises by my side almost instantly. “What’ve you found?”  
“Books.” I say in wonder. “They’re all books.”  
Shelves upon shelves of dusty tomes, sealed away in this place. I wipe the cover of a leather-bound volume to reveal the title.  
“Oh my god. There must be hundreds here.”  
“Where are we Andy?”  
“A library. A place that people went to read.”  
I barely hear him, I’m too busy browsing the shelves, “How many copies of these do you think are left?” I ask, holding up a book full of diagrams of the human body. “This could be the only one in the world.”  
“This is amazing.”  
“Is anyone here?”  
“No, and I didn’t find any nasty surprises.”  
A grin spreads across my face. “Let’s see what we can find!”  
I’m curled up in a corner with my nose in a book full of poems when Andy calls me over. I reluctantly leave the story of a man and a raven behind to search for him.

“Andy?” I ask. “What’s that thing you’re waving around?”  
Andy smiles as he holds out the device “It’s a recorder. Say hi Molly!”  
I roll my eyes, ignoring his start of guilt when he uses that name. “You’re such a dork.”  
“I’m going to siiiiing!”  
“No!” I laugh, holding up my hands. “Please spare me that!”  
“Awww. You’re no fun.”  
“I’m buckets of fun, you’re just a moron.”  
“No look, I found a bunch of old holotapes. This one has my favourite song on it.”  
The metal glimmers dully in the dim light. “Okay, you can play it. But no singing.”  
He does anyway, in a voice that’s not quite made for singing, but so full of joy I can’t help but smile.

_“How many roads must a man walk down_  
Before you can call him a man?  
How many seas must the white dove sail  
Before she sleeps in the sand?” 

He nudges me, handing me a sheet with the words scrawled on it.

_“And how many times must the cannonballs fly_  
Before they’re forever banned?  
The answer my friend,  
Is blowing in the wind.  
The answer is blowing in the wind.” 

“Andy I’m not singing.”  
“Yes you are. It’s a great song.”  
“No.” I say flatly.  
“It’ll be fun!”  
I sigh, he’s not going to let up. The next verse we sing in harmony.

_“How many years can a mountain exist_  
Before it is washed to the sea?  
And how many years can some people exist  
Before they’re allowed to be free?  
And how many times can a man turn his head  
And pretend that he just doesn’t see?  
The answer my friend,  
Is blowing in the wind.  
The answer is blowing in the wind.” 

Andy grins. “See, it’s not so bad.”  
“Okay you’re right. But I get to pick the next song.”  
“Deal.” He says before we burst into song again. I can see why Andy likes this song, the message of sadness, the yearning to do better, is so powerful that they almost overtake me.

_“How many times must a man look up_  
Before he can see the sky?  
Yes and how many ears must one man have  
Before he can hear people cry?  
Yes and how many deaths will it take ‘till he knows  
That too many people have died?  
The answer my friend,  
Is blowing in the wind.  
The answer is blowing in the wind.” 

The song ends gently, almost wistfully. I pretend not to see Andy wiping tears from his eyes.  
“I’ve never heard the original recording before.” He sighs. “It’s better than I could have imagined.”  
I look around, searching for the holotapes. Eventually I pull a box full of the from under a desk.  
“What’re you planning on playing?”  
“I have no idea.” I say. “I’ll let you know what I find.”  
It’s a few moments before on catches my eye. “Johnny Cash.” I read. “Isn’t that what the guy in Reno was singing?”  
“Play it and find out.”  
Most of the tape just crackles and pops, I shake the player. “Come on you piece of shit!”  
“It’ll be the tape.” Andy says. “The data’s been erased or corrupted somehow. Let’s try something else.”  
I ignore him and push a few more buttons. “There’ll be something.”  
“There might be another tape of-” Andy falls silent at the deep sound of a guitar. I smirk at him.  
“Told you.”  
Andy just rolls his eyes and hands me a piece of paper. “This was in the box.” He explains. “It might have the words.”  
I scan the paper quickly as a deep voice begins its song.

_“There ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down”_

There they are! I join in, my voice wobbling as I tried to match the singer’s baritone.

_“There ain’t no grave_  
Can hold my body down.  
When I hear that trumpet sound  
I’m gonna rise right out of the ground.  
Ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.” 

I glare at Andy as he begins laughing. “Well you do better then!” I say, shoving the paper towards him. He begins without hesitation.

_“I look way down the river_  
And what do you think I see?  
I see a band of angels and they’re  
Coming after me.  
Ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.  
There ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.” 

The tape fuzzes slightly as the singer trails off. I take the chance to speak.  
“Christ Andy, I thought I was bad.”  
“You are.” He says. “I’m just worse.”  
“Care for an awful duet?” I ask.  
“With pleasure.”

_“Well look down yonder Gabriel_  
Put your feet on the land and see  
But Gabriel don’t you blow your trumpet  
‘Till you hear from me.  
Ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.  
There ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.  
Well meet Jesus meet me.  
Meet me in the middle of the air  
And if these wings don’t fail me  
I will meet you anywhere” 

The music crackles so loudly we can’t hear Johnny’s singing anymore, but we chime the words to chorus anyway.

_“Ain’t no grave_  
Can hold my body down  
There ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.” 

Slowly the rhythm comes back, fading in and out as we fill in the blank spots.

_“Well meet me mother and father_  
Meet me down the river road  
And mama you know that I’ll be there  
When I check in my load  
Ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.  
There ain’t no grave  
Can hold my body down.” 

The recording pops a few times in between the melancholy song of the guitar before falling silent.  
“I guess that’s it then.” I say, satisfied with what I’ve heard.  
“It was most of the words anyway. We’re just missing a bit of guitar.”  
“My song’s better.”  
“You bite your tongue!” Andy laughs. “Nothing’s better than Blowing in the Wind.”  
“Yes. Listening to nothing would be much better.”  
He opens and shut his mouth a few times, looking so ridiculous that I can’t keep my face straight.  
“You liked my song!” He says as I laugh. “I know you did.”  
“Yeah, I did. It’s just that mine was better.”  
“Oh yeah, much better.” Andy drops his voice, singing to the tune of Johnny Cash “Gloom gloom gloom. I am, very sad.”  
“I didn’t think it was gloomy. It sounded like survival to me.”  
“Survival huh?” Andy shakes his head. “Maybe. I still like mine better though.”  
“I won’t be agreeing with you any time soon.” I say. “So let’s just take both of these for the road.”  
“Great idea. And if the tapes die on us, we’ve got backups.”  
“What?” My eyes fall to the recorder. “Andy you sneak!”  
He snatches it up, dodging away from me. “Personally I thought we were great.”  
“Turn it off!” I laugh, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.  
“Say my song’s better!”  
“Never!” I cry, raising an imaginary sword. Andy retreats behind a shelf, laughing.  
“You’ll never find me!”  
“I will if you keep laughing. It really gives you away.”  
He falls silent. Mostly. The library is quieter than the wasteland could ever hope to be, muffling the sounds of the wind that would have hidden his stifled giggles. I close my eyes, locating him in about a second.  
“I’ll find you.” I call as I move away.  
Quickly, silently, I stalk the shelves, making my way back to his hiding place. A flash of movement catches my eye through the shelves, close enough for me to reach out and touch. I pull myself towards a gap and peer through to see Andy desperately trying to stay silent. My eyes fall on the recorder held loosely at his side, right within arm’s reach. Like a cobra I strike, snatching it from him.  
“Hey!” He yells. “That was sneaky.”  
“If it works it works.” I call back. “Any last words?”  
“Don’t make camp in the radiation!”  
“Always good advice.” I mutter before switching the machine off.  
“You planning on getting rid of that?” Andy asks.  
I ponder for a moment. “Nah, just promise not to show it to anyone.”  
“Fair enough.” He grins as I hand back the device. “I’ll keep it for the road.”  
“Why?”  
“Happy memories are always good to keep. You never know when you’ll need them.”


	11. Bones

Its days before we leave. Every second reveals something new and precious to us. Books, music, even a few movies. We marvel at this treasure trove, enjoying everything we can before the wanderlust hits us again. I turn back to see the quiet building one last time before it disappears behind a hill.

“Hey.” Andy says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got the coordinates written down. We’ll find our way back.”  
“We should get to a Followers outpost. Those books could save so many people.”  
Andy scans the distance. “It’ll take a while, but there’s one to the east.”  
I nod, and together we turn our backs to the sun and begin walking.  
The Followers are ecstatic at the news of a library, they thank us over and over as a team prepares to set out right away. We stop only to restock our supplies before heading out again, the days in the library urging us onwards.

“Which way?” Andy asks as we leave.  
“East.” I say.  
“Are you sure?” For a moment I think I see a shadow of fear on his face, but I dismiss the thought. “We’ve been going east for a while.”  
“Yeah but we knew where we were headed. I want to see what’s out there.”  
“Okay, but not too far. I don’t want to end up halfway across the country with no town in sight.”  
“Just because you don’t know how to hunt doesn’t mean that I can’t.” I tease.  
“Doesn’t change the fact that it would be a pain in the ass. I’m over fifty now, much too old to get in a situation like that.”  
“Maybe you should settle down.” I grin at his look of horror. “Little house on a farm. Dog to keep the geckos away. It’d be nice.”  
“Not while I’ve got air in my lungs. If I can help it I’ll keep travelling until the stars go out.”  
“Me too.” I say.  
“So, east for a while?”  
“I won’t drag us too far out.” I promise.

Rocks rise around us as we travel, hiding dangers that we would obliterate out in the open. We’re out of stimpacks by the time a town comes into view.  
“Come on Andy.” I say to the dead weight across my shoulders. “We can get help here.”  
“Thank god. Those raiders almost had us.”  
“We’ll get your leg fixed up good as new.” I promise. “Then we’ll head off wherever you want.”  
“Are we gonna talk about it or get to help?”  
“We’d get there faster if you’d help me more.”  
“If I could help you we wouldn’t be in this mess.”  
I laugh. “Fair enough. Let’s see what kind of welcome they’ve got ready for us.”

A tall woman stands at the gates. “I’m Sandra Hoffman, mayor of Maereo. There is a sniper aiming at you right now.” I catch the glint of a rifle scope above us, confirming her words. “Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here before I order them to fire.”  
I clear my throat. “My name is Marie. My friend here is hurt and we’re out of stimpaks. All we want is to get him better and then we’ll be out of your hair.”  
The woman measures my words, weighing them carefully. “Do you have proof that you’re not here to harm us?”  
“I can’t think of anything.” I say honestly. “But if you choose not to take us in, please don’t leave us to die. We’ll take anything you can sell us.”  
Mayor Hoffman nods. “That’s all the proof I need. You’re free to come in. Doctor Willis is just up the road, look for the door with a red cross.” Dust swirls in her wake as she strides back into town.

Curious eyes follow us as we move inside, only to dart away when I look back. It irritates me, but I can’t make enemies before Andy’s better. The door with the faded cross painted on it creaks as I nudge it open with my foot.  
“Who’s there?” A voice calls from behind a screen. “I’m very busy right now.”  
“Could you put us on your wait list then?” Andy growls. “High priority would be nice.”  
A bearded man pokes his face around. “Oh, sorry there. The mayor’s kid’s been interrupting me all day. What do you need?”  
“Stimpaks.” I say. “Andy here’s in pretty bad shape.”  
“Am not.”  
“How long have I been carrying you?”  
“Woah!” The doctor interrupts softly. “Let me take a look at him.”  
Andy groans as I lift him onto a cot. “Told you.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles. “What’s all this for?”  
“I prefer not to leave my patients with wounds that could be healed.”  
“I don’t know if we’ve got the caps for an exam.”  
“Don’t you worry Miss?” He raises an eyebrow.  
“Marie.”  
“Marie then. This is something I always do free of charge.”  
I nod, standing back to let him get on with it.

Andy holds up well as Doctor Willis assesses the damage, letting out an anguished whimper as his bones grate together. Eventually the doctor stands back, face drawn in sympathy.  
“What is it?” I ask.  
“Sorry to tell you this, but stimpaks aren’t going to help all that much.”  
“What?” Andy cries, pulling himself into a sitting position.  
“Your bones aren’t just broken, they’re shattered. You’re going to need surgery if you want to recover enough to walk properly.”  
“We don’t have the caps for that!” I run through our possessions in my head. The holotapes might fetch us a bit, and if I can find the right person the books from the library could sell. If I really need to my gun’s in good condition. All in all that should add up to…  
Not enough.  
“Hey, no need to worry.” The doctor says. “It just so happens that I’ve got a little delivery job that needs doing.”  
“What are you offering?”  
“My sister lives to the north, about a week’s travel either way. With the roads being what they are lately I haven’t heard from her in months. If you could deliver a letter to her I’ll fix up your friend while you’re gone.”  
I think for a second. It seems too good to be true, which means the roads must be crawling with danger. “What’s out there?”  
“Raiders mostly. They moved in from the east for some reason and they’re a nasty bunch. Too high to take down easily and vicious enough that being caught means you’re in for a pretty painful death.”  
“That’s it?”  
“Isn’t that enough?”  
“I thought there’d be deathclaws at the very least.”  
“Deathclaws.” Andy says. “The raiders are bad enough and now you’re asking for deathclaws?”  
“I know.”  
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”  
“Andy, we’ve known each other for how long exactly?”  
“Few years.” He says in confusion.  
“Five, to be exact. And how many fights have we won?”  
“That’s just my point!” He cries. “We. As in the two of us. We’re a team.”  
“I’ll just have to adjust.” I say in a soothing voice. “It’s only for two weeks.”  
“Raiders got us into this mess and now you want to go looking for more? They’re out there waiting for unsuspecting travellers.”  
I laugh. “Since when have we been unsuspecting travellers?” I ask him. “We’re more like roving war machines.”  
“If I may.” Doctor Willis interjects. “I have some very good gear that should get you through the trip safely.”  
“Let me take a look at it. There’s a chance that we’ve got different ideas about what good means.”

As it turns out, the doctor’s version of good gear is combat armour and a plasma rifle. Both so well taken care of that they gleam. “No way.” I say softly.  
“Yeah, thankfully it’s not had a lot of use recently, but I’ve been keeping them in mint condition.”  
“Where did you get these?” I ask as I pick up the rifle.  
“Had some traders come through a few years back. What with all the bandits in the area I thought it’d be prudent to get protected.”  
I sigh. “Looks good at least, I think.”  
“We’ll have your buddy fixed up and ready to go by the time you get back.”  
“You seem to have a lot of faith in me.”  
“Actually, if you don’t come back I figured that fixing up the other guy would make a decent apology.”  
“Please don’t tell me you’ve sent other people.”  
“No. No one else would take it.”  
“Well, desperate people are never the smartest. Can I see how this fits now?”  
“By all means.” The doctor says as he heads out the door.

I curse. The armour is way too tight over my chest for comfort. I grapple with the straps until it stops digging into me. Still uncomfortable, but not anything I can’t handle. I pull my belt from my old clothes and pull it tight around my waist. That should keep my pants from falling down at least. Nothing worse than facing down a raider in your underwear. A full length mirror set in the door allows me to see myself. The armours’ ill fit barely shows, and the rifle certainly adds something to the look. I take a deep breath before I open the door.  
“Well, it’s not too bad. These pants are massive but that shouldn’t be a problem.”  
Andy gapes at me from the hospital bed. “You’ve got your rifle.”  
“Can’t wait to melt some uglies into a pile of goo.” I smile.  
“Right. You’re good to go.” The doctor says. “All you need is this. Ask for Hannah when you arrive.”  
I take the letter. “Does this thing have pockets?”  
“There’s one on the inside of the vest.”  
I stow the letter away, safely sitting right next to my heart. “I’ll head out in the morning. Give me some time to prepare.”  
“Whatever you think is best.” The doctor nods, turning towards his bedroom. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye, you’re welcome to sleep here if you want.”  
Andy waits until his door closes before he speaks. “You don’t have to do this.”  
“Yes I do.”  
“I don’t want you to die for me. I’ll be fine like this. Lots of people walk with a limp.”  
“I’m not risking it.” I say firmly. “If this is what I need to do for you to get better then I’m damn well doing it.”  
He opens his mouth to argue, but it dies on his lips. “You’ve made up your mind.”  
“I have.”  
“I promised to myself when I took you in that I’d let you make your own choices, that I wouldn’t be like your mother. I guess I never thought about anything like this.”  
Tears spring to my eyes. “You’ve been doing a damn good job.” I say. “You’ve done so much for me. Please, let me do this for you.”  
He lies back with a sigh. “If you die out there, I’m going to kill you.”  
“Fair enough.”  
“Now get some sleep. If you’re going to be walking through hell then you’ll need your rest.”  
“Walking through hell?” A chipper voice asks. “What does that mean?”  
I nearly fall over in fright. A young boy, barely a teenager, grins at me. “Umm, hello?”  
“Hi!” He says. “I’m Brady Hoffman.”  
“Hoffman? Like the mayor?” Asks Andy.  
“Yeah, she’s my Ma, so you better watch out!”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“The doc has all kinds of cool stuff. I wanted to see what I could do with it.”  
“You’re an inventor?”  
“Everyone else calls me a nuisance. Can’t blame them really, some of my stuff makes a lot of noise.”  
“You’re also a goddamn thief Brady.” Calls the doctor from the other room. “Leave my scalpels alone.”  
“I only need a few Doc!”  
“That’s what you said last time. Go home before I call your parents.”  
He sticks out his tongue at the door, but scurries off. “Tell me what you were talking about later!” He calls.

I stare at the ceiling as I drift off. Some people’s minds would be buzzing anxiously, keeping them from getting the rest they need. But I’ve been on the road so long that I shut those dangerous feelings down on impulse. I put them away in a box and lock it tight until my eyes open to see the sun on the horizon and the sky glowing pink.  
“You awake?” I ask, wondering if I really want a reply.  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you want to talk?”  
“I’d like to be able to say goodbye.”  
I swing my legs off the bed, pacing quietly to Andy’s bedside. “Not goodbye.” I say. “Let’s make it see you later instead.”  
He grips my hand tight, but smiles in spite of it all. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”  
“As soon as I get back I’ll meet up with you as fast as I can. That’s a promise. A few raiders aren’t gonna keep me from getting back safe.”  
“I’ll be waiting.”  
I just nod, not trusting myself to speak without doing something stupid like crying. The grip on my hand tightens for a moment before slipping away. “Now give ‘em hell kid. Those raiders are no match for you.” Andy says as I make my way to the door.  
Maybe I should be proud of myself, after all, I made it all the way outside before crying. Not much, just a few silent tears to release the stress that’s howling inside me like a dust storm, but enough that somebody notices.  
“Hey!” A familiar voice calls. “What’s up with you?”  
My face snaps back into a calm expression as I turn, wiping my eyes. “What do you want Brady?”  
“Are you upset because of the hell thing? Oh, is your friend dying in there! I remember when Pop’s friend Jim got shot in the-”  
“Shut up!” I yell.  
There’s no sound now except my heavy breathing as I desperately try to keep myself from lashing out. Brady’s face pales as I snap, his freckles standing out like stars.  
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to know.” Have I made the kid cry now? Shit.  
“Andy’s badly hurt.” I tell him. “But he isn’t dying.”  
“Oh. Well that’s good isn’t it?”  
“If his leg doesn’t get fixed up it’ll kill him.” My deepest fear about all this. “He’ll never stop wandering, and if he can’t walk right something’s gonna get him. Maybe not right away, but it will happen.”  
“Is doc gonna fix him up?”  
“Yeah, but since I don’t have enough money I have to do some work for him instead. He gave me a letter to deliver, to his sister up north.”  
“North?” I can see the pieces clicking into place as I watch him. “But the only thing up there’s raiders.”  
“That’s what I need to go through. There and back, quick as I can.”  
His eyes widen. “But that’s crazy! Those guys are tough and mean and’ll rip you to shreds. My Pop says so.”  
“I’ve been travelling a while.” My smile doesn’t quite feel right, but it’ll do. “I bet I’m tougher than a band of raiders.”  
“They already messed up a bunch of people though. What makes you so sure?”  
“Brady, I’m no stranger to this. But if it makes you feel better how about I bring something back for you? That way I can’t let them get me.”  
His eyes light up. “Yes please! What are you thinking of? Can I get a gun?”  
“I’ll see what I can find. Are you okay if I leave now?”  
He nods. “Just let me get my Pop so we can wave goodbye together. I’ve been missing him lately.”  
“Thanks kid.”

I run my fingers over the rough wood of the gate, waiting. As much as I want to get on the road, a part of me refuses to let Brady down. After all, he seems like a nice kid.  
“Hey Marie!”  
“Gah!” I leap back but it’s only Brady, standing there with a smug grin. “Why do you feel the need to do that?”  
“Hope you’re better at sneaking than you are at hearing.” He says.  
“Yeah, well I’m not half bad at fighting at least. Is this your Pop?”  
“David.” The freckled man says with a nod.  
“Pleasure meeting you. I’m Marie.”  
“You heading off then?”  
“Unless Brady has anything else he needs.”  
“I’m good” He chirps.  
I turn away to leave, but David grabs my arm to pull me into a tight hug. “Don’t die out there.”  
He doesn’t let go until I nod. This time when I turn nothing stops me. The road stretches out before me to the north like a dusty ribbon and I don’t look back.


	12. Delivery

The rocks rise around me again, like a prison that only opens to the sky. I barely last an hour before it begins to fray on my nerves. Knowing that raiders might be hiding around any corner is driving me mad. I press on, staying out of sight as much as I can. Out of whose sight I can’t say. It’s almost a relief when I come across the first group. I avoid them with ease, without even firing a shot. It’s almost disappointing, not being able to test my gun. But there’ll be time for that later.

As it turns out, my new gear is a godsend. Far better than anything I’ve ever had before. There’s no raider that’s a match for me, even if the rocky environment does mean that I have a few close calls. The light’s fading fast as I clean my wounds from these close encounters. I still don’t have any stimpaks, but I’ve been able to make healing powder. Dust falls from my clothes as I stand, scanning the road ahead. If the noise is anything to go by I’ll need to be ready for another fight very soon. At least these ones don’t seem to be expecting me. I stick to the shadows as I approach.

The fire in the camp’s centre burns bright, almost blinding my dark-adjusted eyes when I look. Shadowy figures talk amongst themselves, revelling in drink and whatever else they might have. Three sit, gazing into the fire, four stand and argue. None of them notice me as I lurk behind a boulder. A smile spreads across my face. If I play my cards right I’ll be able to get out without a fight. The darkness embraces me as I shrink from the fire’s glow, preparing to depart, but behind me I hear the clatter of careless footsteps. My rifle trains itself on the hulking shadow that’s bearing down on me, but it’s knocked from my hands as the shadow lurches forward.

“Sparks?” A confused voice calls. “Is that you?”  
Unarmed, my only chance is to bluff. “Yeah it’s me. What are you doing out here?”  
My heart thunders as the man remains silent, I feel my muscles tense, preparing to act.  
“We thought you were dead!” I choke as I’m swept into a tight bear hug.  
“Pu’ me dow’.”  
“Sorry.” Even though I can’t see his face I know his split on a smile. “Come see the others, they’ll never believe this.”  
I allow myself to be led to the fire, praying that if my bluff doesn’t hold up my weapons do. I still have enough microfusion cells to get out of this.  
“Sparks’s back you guy! She’s alive!”  
Thank god they’re so out of it. Not a single raider throws a glance in my direction before the all give a wobbly cheer.  
“Shoulda know it’d take more than a couple of nutcases to take you down.” A woman built like a brick wall mumbles. “Guess we get to die together then.”  
“Don’t talk like that Kelly. We’re all here again, let’s celebrate.”  
The man I almost shot hands me a bottle and pulls a face. “Not your favourite, I know.” He says. “But we ran out a while back.”  
Unwilling to risk my cover, I force some of the burning liquor down my throat. Kelly laughs bitterly.  
“Yeah, no need to save it. Who knows how long-”  
“What did I just say?”  
“Oh fuck off hotshot, we all know it’s true.”  
“So,” I say, tapping my bottle full of god knows what. “Why’d you lot go this way?”  
A man with a rifle nearly as big as his body laughs. “No worse than anywhere else. There were travellers coming through at the beginning that we could have fun with too.” My stomach twists as he gestures towards a rotting, mutilated corpse, white glimmers of bone showing through the flesh.

Maybe I shouldn’t stick around much longer.

“I’m glad to see you Sparks.” The man that stumbled across me takes hold of my hand, and I jerk back in fright. He blinks at me, confusion written across his scarred face.  
“Sparks, you know it’s not long before they come this way, what’s wrong with a bit of fun?”  
My mind screams at me to run, but I smile. “Yeah, well I gotta take a piss.” I edge towards the safety of the shadows. “At least let me do that first.”  
He nods. “Okay, but hurry back. We’ve all missed you.”  
He barely finishes speaking before I’m sprinting away into the night. I run like the devil’s on my heels until, finally, I bend over wheezing, gasping for breath. My ears listen frantically for the sounds of pursuit, but there’s only silence. A laugh bubbles up in my throat as I realise that I’ve escaped. The air is sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted, but I can’t yet start moving again.

The encounter unnerves me, drives me further from the road as I try to hide. Seeing the lights of a town, more widespread than the fires from the raiders camps, almost makes me cry in relief. An orange tinge colours the horizon as I make my approach and I open my mouth to call out, but a gunshot rings out and the ground beside me spits up dust.  
“Die you raider scum!” A frantic voice screams out as I scramble for cover. “Trinity will never stop fighting.”  
As a gesture of peace, I toss my borrowed gun over the boulder that protects me. When I’m sure that they’ve seen I reply to the voice.  
“It’s okay! I have a letter from Doctor Willis in Maereo for his sister Hannah.”  
There’s no reply, but there’s no more gunshots either which I take as a good sign. I still stay hidden though. After all, I didn’t come all this way to end up with a bullet in my head and a shallow grave. The minutes tick by and I begin to grow anxious.  
“If I come out again, are you gonna shoot me?”  
“Give us a second!”  
My back clicks as I settle against the boulder with a sigh. Whatever they’re doing I could be here a while. My eyelids droop but I fight against them, refusing to believe that I’m safe until the sturdy walls of a town surround me. The sky blackens as my will battles my tired body and nearly loses before a shout from the town jolts me into alertness.  
“You can come out now, but keep your hands in the air and move slowly.”

The gates are open now, but every building holds a fighter, and every fighter holds a gun. Of course I can’t help noticing that all these guns happen to be pointing at me as I make my way inside. The second I enter the town a slow rumble echoes through the valley. My fingers twitch as I long for the steady weight of a plasma rifle back in my hands. When I stop in plain view of all the guards not a sound can be heard. Not a whisper, not a sneeze, not even the shallow breaths I take make noise.  
“I’m going to remove the letter from my inner pocket.” I call. “I’m not going to pull out a weapon, I’m not going to hurt you. Can I go ahead?”  
Their murmurs sound like wind brushing through a grove of trees before they decide to give me permission to move. I place the letter on the ground as slowly as I took it out, and then I back away.  
“I don’t know if you want me to leave now, or if I can stay and trade. But whatever your choice, please don’t harm me. All I want is to get back now that my job is done.”  
More murmurs, then a terrified shout follow my words. When I turn to search for the source of the commotion I see a woman striding towards me, her belly swollen with the life it holds within and her eyes like stone.  
“That’s enough.” She says in a voice so filled with calm authority that she has no need to raise it for all the town to hear her. “I want my letter, I want this young lady unharmed, and I want you all to take a deep breath and relax. If she was planning something she’s already had plenty of time to pull it off.”  
Not everyone’s convinced, but most of them lower their weapons. Though they keep them close by. I scoop the letter from the ground, dusting it off before holding it out to the woman as a peace offering.  
“You must be Hannah.” I say. “Is Trinity always this welcoming or am I a special guest?”  
She laughs. “This is more or less standard right now I’m afraid. You handled yourself very well.”  
“Sadly, I’ve had practise.”  
With a smile she wanders away, tearing the envelope open as she walks. Uncertain, I glance around for a place to trade the gear from the raiders that were unlucky enough to see me. A man in front of the store glares at me, but I hold my head high and walk inside without giving him a second glance.

“So you’re the troublemaker.” The storekeeper sets down the gun he was cleaning.  
I ignore the jibe as I open my bag of loot. “I need microfusion cells for the trip back and I’ve got these to trade. Have you got any?”  
A glob of tobacco lands in a spittoon with a ping. “A few. What’re you offering for ‘em?”  
We haggle back and forth for what seems like hours before finally settling on a price for sixty five cells, enough to get me through the pass again. I’m just packing up the last of my loot when I spot something.  
“Is that a crossbow?”  
“Aye, that it is. You interested?”  
This is it. The perfect thing to keep my promise to Brady. The bow is filled with potential for improvement, explosive-tipped arrows, iron sights, the possibilities are endless. I can’t think of a weapon that would suit him more.  
“That depends on the price.”  
“Oh just give me one of those shotguns for it, they sell much easier.”  
“Deal.”  
He seems surprised that I agreed so quickly, but he doesn’t try to bump up the price, which I’m grateful for. The bow bumps against my side as I emerge into the sun.  
There’s no reason for me to stay any longer, this place isn’t very welcoming and my job is done. The gate guards stare down at me as I approach.  
“Leaving already?”  
“Yes. Can I get through here?”  
“Sorry ma’am, there’s been sightings of raiders out there. We’re going to have to stay closed tight if we want to survive the night-time.”  
I groan. “Can I at least get my gun?”  
“I have it here.”  
Hannah smiles at me, holding the rifle out to me just as I held the letter to her. “My brother gave you this, didn’t he?”  
“Yeah, armour as well. It saved my ass more than once.”  
“He’s always loved energy weapons. Personally I prefer explosives, much better to take out a crowd of people attacking you.”  
“This was the first time I used a plasma rifle in a fight, I thought it was pretty good.”  
“You’ve taken a pretty big risk. Do you want to hear how he began his letter? _Dear Hannah, hopefully my letter finds you safe and well, and you didn’t pull it off the dead body of the woman I hired to deliver it. I can only imagine how much tighter the security in Trinity has gotten._ ”  
“What?” Well, it would have been nice to get a warning about the town full of frightened people with guns.  
“He skipped that detail didn’t he?” She give a little sigh. “God knows I love my brother, but he really is an idiot sometimes.”  
“Yeah, bro-, people are like that sometimes.”  
If she notices my slipup, she’s kind enough not to say a thing. “I wonder, since you’re going back to Maereo anyway, could you please take another letter? One from me to him?”  
I nod. “Do you need time to write it?”  
“If you’ll give me until the morning, I’ll be able to come up with something.” She notices my nervous glance around at the town. “You can stay at my house if you want. We don’t have an extra bed though.”  
“If you have a more or less flat surface, I’ll take it.”

It’s nice to be able to sleep properly, even if I do wake early, the security other people can offer me relaxes me far more than silence on the road while I only have the stars for company. A sleepy mumbling comes from the other room as I begin to pace. A flash of guilt consumes me for waking Hannah after she took me in so kindly, but her friendly smile chases it away.  
“Morning Hannah. Do you have the letter?”  
“I do.” She hands it to me, her smile never wavering. “I’ve also packed you some food for the trip.”  
“But-” I begin to protest before she waves her hand.  
“We have plenty of food right now. Don’t you worry about a thing. After all, I need to give you something for taking the letter.”  
True enough. I swing my bag over my shoulder and give a little smile. “Thanks then. And don’t worry, I’ve been through the pass once already.”  
“And I’m sure you’ll be able to do it again. Goodbye and safe travels my friend.”  
“Bye.”

I can’t be sure, but before the door closes I think I hear her talking to her baby.


	13. You?

The trip back is much easier now that I know the terrain. The few remaining raiders don’t bother me, and the path that took me two weeks to walk before now barely takes one. Maereo is within sight before I know it, shining like a beacon through the dark desert night. There’s no telling if they’ve seen me yet, so I make my approach obvious. The gates swing open to greet me as a voice yells for me to get inside. I only realise that something’s wrong when Doctor Willis grabs me by the shoulders, his face pale and his eyes wide.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He yells. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”  
“Woah, slow down. What the hell’s been going on?”  
Tears build up in his eyes as he stammers. “Th-they, oh my god. Didn’t you see?”  
“See what?” Panic begins boiling in my stomach. “Is Andy okay? You managed to fix him didn’t you?”  
“What? No, the surgery went fine.”  
“Where is he?”  
“I don’t know where to begin. So much has happened since you left and everyone thought you were dead and-”  
“Tell me what happened.” I growl.  
His throat bobs as he swallows nervously. “I fixed his leg right after you left, just like I promised I would. A few hours later while he was recovering we were attacked.” His voice is low and choked as he continues. “They weren’t raiders. Too organised. They knew what the hell they were doing but we managed to beat them back. But not b- not before they took prisoners.”  
I turn, determined to march right in to wherever they were hiding and get Andy back. “Open the gate.”  
The doctor stares at me. “That’s crazy!”  
“I don’t care.”  
“Look, at the very least will you listen to the rest?”  
Information. Anything that helps me is welcome, even if the delay isn’t. “Fine.”  
“They retreated to the east, where they’ve got some kind of camp. They make speeches at us every day, telling us to give up, and every day for the first couple of weeks they’d- they’d take one of the prisoners where we could see them and-”  
“Oh god.”  
“It was horrible, what they did to them. Please, I don’t want to think about what happened anymore. It was bad enough before.”  
“Andy. He’s gone then. Just like that.” It should be painful, but I’m too shocked to feel a thing.  
“We haven’t actually, seen him.”  
“But, but that means…”  
The doctor nods. “Yes. Maybe he’s still alive. Or maybe he died in the meantime and they left him for the buzzards.”  
A chance. A chance is all I have. But for my desperate mind a chance is all I need. Hope fills me, burning through my veins, demanding that I act. “I need to get out there.”  
The doctor grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “What, you’re just going to go running in there without a plan? Don’t be stupid.”  
“Andy needs me.”  
“And you’re no help to him dead. God knows I can’t stop you, but will you at least make sure you know what the hell you’re doing first?”  
Even if I don’t want to hear it, I know what he says is true. “Take me over what you’ve picked up about them. Numbers, strategies, anything that might help.”  
Doctor Willis breathes a sigh of relief. “You’ll need to talk to Mayor Brady. He’s been keeping track of everything.”  
“Brady’s in charge?” If I had to choose a leader, the energetic, distracted boy wouldn’t be it.  
“His mother died fighting, father got captured, there’s nobody left but him now.”  
I thank Doctor Willis and move to search out Brady.

It’s like I’m looking at a completely different person. The warm, cheerful energy that he had when I left now burns hotter. But it’s a slow burn, his tiredness surrounding him like a halo as he sifts through papers.  
“Brady?”  
Even his eyes have changed. They’re empty, hollow like pits. “Marie, I see you’re back.” He sighs. “More paperwork for me.”  
“What for?”  
“Rations. They’re starving us out and I need to how much we have, how long it’ll last, and how to distribute it.”  
Without a word I take the remaining food from my bag and place it on the table. Not much, not nearly enough to make up for my presence here, but Brady nods his thanks anyway.  
“I need information on the invaders.”  
He waves me towards a teetering pile of papers by the door. “If you can’t wait for the next big speech that idiot makes, read about it over there.”

Maybe I’d get more information if I could focus, but even in my distracted state I manage to pick up a few details. The village is completely cut off, a call for surrender is made every day, sometimes more than once, in an alcove on the cliffs where the people can see but the sniper can’t get a clear shot, the invaders show skill with close quarters weapons, but carry few guns. Through the night I absorb as much knowledge as I can before nerves and exhaustion overtake me.

I awake to Brady shaking my shoulder. “They’ll be starting their speeches soon enough. You’d best be ready.” He hands me a pair of binoculars. “See what you can pick up.”  
Judging by the sun, it’s about midday. Brady points towards a rocky outcropping filled with crosses and bones before returning to his mountain of paperwork. I can’t just wait, I have to do something. Before I know it, I find myself climbing the side of a building, settling to wait on the roof, but there’s no signs of life until the skin on my arms begins to blister. A flash of movement catches my eye before the voice begins to speak.

“To the people below, The Legion greets you again. We regret that you’ve not come to your senses yet and submitted to us. Perhaps your new guest can bring you to sanity. Yes, we know about her, our scouts miss nothing. The only reason she entered is because we allowed it. We will not permit her departure. Your stores are dwindling, and this new addition to your collection of desperate, hungry, fools will bring you no long term aid. Surrender and we will be merciful. Resist and you will all be destroyed. We have beaten you regardless, but you need not die. Think on this.”

My mouth hangs open, not just because of the red-skirted man’s words, but because the voice is all too familiar, even after all this time. I don’t need the binoculars to see the sun dancing on his blonde hair, but they allow me to see my brother’s green eyes before he turns to leave.


	14. Family Reunion

A plan is forming as I climb down. A risky plan, but it might be my only chance. The doctor nods his head in greeting.  
“Any ideas?”  
“Yeah actually. It’s crazy, but maybe we need a little crazy.”  
“Well, if you get yourself killed at least we don’t have to worry about you anymore. Need any help?”  
“Be ready when I get back. Don’t let them in. Have a few stimpaks on hand just in case I’m seen.”  
The doctor shakes his head. “None left. No healing powder either. We’re down to whiskey and bedsheets.”  
The last of my healing powder and the foul bottle of liquor. The doctor, this village, needs them more than I do right now. “Promise me you’ll do your best.”  
He stares at the supplies like he can’t quite believe they’re real. “What time are you leaving?”  
“Nightfall. I’ll be back before dawn.”  
“And I’ll be ready.”

If you don’t look closely at me, and just see my figure passing by, you’d never know that I was infiltrating the camp. I move with long, confident strides as I pass between patches of shadow. The scouts never saw me when I was trying not to be seen, and now here, in the light, nobody sees more than they need to. Stealth gets easier as the tents rise around me, canvas muffling my footsteps, hiding my frame, giving me shadows to hide in. I find him at a campfire, feasting on a stew that could sustain the hungry people of the village for at least a week. My stomach growls at me, begging for food. I ignore it and settle in the shadows to watch.  
At this distance I can’t quite hear what they’re saying, a fact that makes me grind my teeth in frustration. I watch and I wait until, finally, I see the sign I’m looking for. My brother gets to his feet, making his way just out of sight of the fire. I make no sound as I follow him to a small tent. He leaves far too soon, before I can corner him, and I bite my cheek in suppressed rage over the delay. But there’s nothing I can do now. I settle in to wait as his footsteps fade into the distance again. He’ll return soon enough. Hopefully.  
He doesn’t see me as he re-enters the tent about half an hour later, turning away without even glancing in my direction, rubbing his neck with tired arms. I’m barely able to stay quiet as I move behind him, inch by inch, until I’m so close I could reach out and touch him. Only then do I make myself known. My low, growling voice startles me on some level. It’s like nothing I’ve heard before.

“Hello brother.”  
His red skirt flares as he whips around to face me, eyes wide with fright. But as before he can take in the sight of me, before he can react to my presence, I punch him square in the jaw.  
“That’s for abandoning me.” I snarl as he staggers backwards.  
“What the-? How-? You’re here?” He sputters.  
“I’m here, and I have business to attend to. Business that you’re going to help me with.”  
“I- I don’t know what you mean.”  
Angry now, I grab the front of his armour and haul him towards me until we’re standing nose to nose. “You remember that little town just outside your camp? The one that you’re starving out?” He nods, hanging onto my every word. “A few weeks ago you took some prisoners-”  
“They’re dead. They’ve been dead for days.”  
“Not the man I’m looking for. They’ve kept track of who you’ve butchered back in the town, and there’s been no sign of him since your people dragged him off.”  
He gives a defeated sigh, but doesn’t speak.  
“I’m only going to ask you once. Where. Is. Andrew. Hernandez?” I watch as he stumbles over his answer, unable to decide on a lie. I give him a shake, watching his head snap back a bit.  
“Who?” He eventually wheezes.  
“You know full well who. He’s the only one that’s still alive!”  
His shoulders slump forwards, and I can see that I’ve beaten him. “You won’t be able to do anything for him, and you shouldn’t try. He’s where he belongs now.”  
I click my tongue impatiently. “I’ll be the judge of what I can and can’t do. What have you done with him?”  
“The Centurion, the man leading the troops, decided he wanted to keep him. The man’s a capture now, to be a slave. He’s being kept in the Centurion’s tent.”  
He gasps for air as I jam my fist into his throat. “Were is this tent?”  
“N-northern corner of the camp, there’s two flags outside it.” He coughs out. I drop him to the ground, watch him massage his throat while he glares at me.  
“I should have you killed right now. String you up on a cross for everyone in that pitiful village to see.”  
I smile an empty smile at him. “Will you?”  
No answer. He just sits in silence, face fixed in a mask of hatred. I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, how the hell did he end up here?  
“What’s your story anyway?” I ask as I sit down beside him. “What happened between leaving and now? Hell, why did you leave?”  
He stares at me reproachfully. “Why do you care?”  
“You did kind of change the course of my life when you ran off you know. I guess I just want to know why it happened.”  
“You left because I did?”  
I wave my hand dismissively. “I’ll tell you about it later. What happened?”  
“You do know that our mother isn’t a good person, that she kept us away, stopped us from using our skills for the greater good? I wanted more than that. I wanted more than starving to death in a cave while being beaten by that psychotic bitch. Didn’t you?”  
“Does it matter?” I ask. “I wouldn’t risk asking that question back there anyway, no matter how miserable I was.”  
“Well I did ask. You could never understand. All you ever did was trail after her like a hungry dog begging for scraps. You never thought of anything beyond surviving to the next day, of getting some tiny measure of approval from her.”  
“I asked you where we came from. I thought about that.” I remind him.  
“And I thought, for a little while, that you were looking for something bigger than our lives. But you forgot within a week. I was the only one that dreamed. I was-”  
“Get off your high horse, you don’t know how I think.”  
He looks at me like I just hit him again. I can tell that his instinct is to argue, but with a pointed look from me he continues. “So I left. It took me a long time to get up the courage, but I did it. I went east, met the Legion.”  
“They don’t seem like the type of people to help out a lost kid.”  
“They’re not.” He says with a wry smile. “I was captured by a group of them, almost sold me before I convinced them I was more use to The Legion as a soldier than as a slave. One thing I can thank our mother for I suppose.”  
“Why didn’t you just run away? We learnt how to disarm the collars.”  
“You can’t find the right wires when you’ve got one on. You can barely see them.”  
I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to correct him.  
“They let me join up with them, they taught me what they were doing for the good of everyone, gave me some more training so I could work in a group. I did well, my whole squad did. All got put on the field early. I’ve been in a few campaigns before now, but I never expected to see you in one of them. Now tell me, what happened to you?”

My hands twitch nervously as I begin to give a brief version of my tale. About how I had to cover for him when he first left and about all my travels since. About Andy and everything he’s done for me. He’s a good listener, only asking the occasional question as I tell my story. When I finish speaking he stares at me in silence for a moment.  
“This man must mean a lot to you.”  
“I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”  
“You must want to find him now. Don’t let me keep you.”  
I rise to my feet and move to the mouth of the tent. I’m about to leave when something occurs to me.  
“You won’t tell anyone that I’m here will you? For old times’ sake.”  
A sad smile crosses his face. “I should still turn you in, but yeah. Old times’ sake. I’ll give you a chance to escape. One chance.”  
I hadn’t realised that I’ve been holding my breath until I release it in a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” And with that I’m gone.  
The tent is easy to find now that I know what I’m looking for. A light shines inside it, just bright enough to cast figures on the canvas. I stick to the shadows, mindful that the lights that let me see within the tent may also highlight my silhouette. As I peer through the darkness I see the figure of a man inside, pacing around. My teeth dig into my lip as I hesitate. If that’s Andy in there this might be the only chance I have to save him, but if it isn’t…

I have to get closer. I have to be sure. There’s a boulder ahead of me, if I’m careful I can use it for cover from the light. I edge forward until I’m sure that I’m invisible again, concealed behind the rock. My heart is racing, but I keep my breathing steady as I shut my eyes and listen. I’m close enough to hear now. Not actual words, just the presence of a deep voice. I open my eyes, creeping around the rock slowly as I can to get another look at the shadows. The man is distorted, standing in front of a table or something as he speaks. Even though I can’t make out his words I can tell that it isn’t Andy. The voice is too harsh, too deep to belong to him. I run through every foul name I know in my mind as I realise that my brother may have very well lied to me. Damn him then. I think. I’m going to get Andy back if I have to tear this place apart with my bare hands. But my heart jumps in my chest as I hear another voice. Terrified but familiar. Andy.

It takes all of my will not to rush in and kill the other man. To set Andy free so we can run for our lives. But I’m outnumbered here. I need to be smart. I need to be stealthy. So I bite my tongue as the man gives a deep laugh, and I silently curse him to the pits of hell. I stay frozen as the tent opens and a Legionary in a strange helmet with a stripe of hair exits. I’m still on my guard as he heads for the fire at the centre of the camp. He might come back, for all I know he could just want a breath of fresh air and could be back in a second. But his figure fades into the night, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. I hear a slight increase in noise from the centre of the camp. A greeting for the man that just left. He should be busy for a while. I only make a token effort at stealth as I rush to the tent and throw open the canvas flap covering the entrance. I scan the room, desperately searching.

Andy cowers back at my entrance, hands over his face. “No more. Please, just leave me alone.” He babbles, trying to move away.  
“Andy, it’s me.” I whisper. “It’s Molly.”  
He freezes, but doesn’t move his hands. “Can’t be. Just don’t touch me. Please.”  
“Andy it’s really me.” I crouch down beside him, gently moving his hands away from his face. He stares at me with wide, bloodshot eyes.  
“What are you doing here?” he whispers.  
“Family reunion.” I say dryly. “Decided to pick you up on the way out.”  
“You are going to explain later right?”  
“I promise. But first I need to get you out of that collar.” I pull a knife from my belt. “Just hold still.”  
“Have you done this before?” He asks nervously.  
“Loads.” I reply absently as I pry the side panel off the collar. It barely takes me a second to locate the wire and disengage the lock. Andy gives a small cry of relief as I remove it from his neck.  
“Thank you Molly.” He has tears in his eyes. “Thank you so much.”  
I straighten up, offering Andy my hand when he doesn’t follow. “Don’t thank me yet.” I tell him. “We still need to get out of here.”  
“Something that I’m afraid won’t be happening tonight.” Says an icy voice behind me.  
Andy stumbles backwards in sheer terror. My knife jumps up as I spin around to see the man in the helmet is back, and standing behind him is…  
“You fucking traitor.” I snarl at my brother.  
He stares back at me impassively. “I told you not to try. You could have slipped away and no one would have known.”  
I spit at his face in reply, and he jerks back with a startled curse. My stomach drops with the look he gives me, so much like my mother would, but I hold his gaze even as he goes for his weapon.  
“Stand down Quintus.” The other Legionary says in a voice as cold as the desert night. “I have plans for this one.”  
I turn my glare towards him now. “Do those plans involve your death? Because if that’s the case I’ll gladly cooperate.”  
He smirks down at me, not a care in the world. Yet his voice rings with authority “Drop your weapon girl, and your death might be swift.”  
“If you want my knife so badly.” I challenge him. “Why don’t you come over here and take it from me?”  
“Just end it. It’s your only chance.” Says Andy in a low voice. I pretend not to hear him as I prepare to fight for our lives.

The Centurion paces lazily around the tent, forcing me to turn constantly to keep facing him. I hold my knife at the ready, watching him like a hawk as he traces his hand over the hilt of his machete. My heart thunders so loudly I’m afraid that everyone in the room can hear it, and I barely have time to parry the blow launched towards my neck as the Centurion lunges towards me like a charging bull, drawing his weapon as he moves. Our blades lock as we stand chest to chest for a few moments before I manage to push him back. While he’s still trying to get his balance I slam my fist into his face as hard as I can. He curses, but manages to catch my arm as I try to dart away again. I can’t break his grip as he tries to pull me towards him, so I use the momentum to my advantage instead and headbutt him in the nose. A crunching sound rewards me as the man drops to the ground like a stone and I don’t look to see if he’ll be getting up again, I just grab Andy’s arm and run for it, making sure to knock my brother over on the way out.  
Shouts fill the air behind us as we run for the village. I push myself harder, we just need to get past the barricades, then we’ll be safe. The noise falls behind us as we sprint as fast as we can. The pumping of my blood through my veins, the cold wind against my skin, the thudding jolts when my feet hit the ground, Andy’s arm locked tightly in my grasp. The entire universe shrinks until these things are all that remain. But the Legion isn’t letting us get away that easily. The night comes alive with the sound of gunshots, but the barricades are barely one hundred metres away now. The earth around us spits up dirt, but we’re almost free. Adrenaline fuels my body, pushing me to greater speeds than I ever thought I was capable of. We’re greeted with more gunshots from the town, the sniper standing guard covering us as we fly. I leap over the barricade, not even waiting for the gates to open, dragging Andy behind me. We collapse into the dirt, gasping for air. The sound of running feet still rings in the air, but not our feet. A weary smile crosses my face as I see Brady and Doctor Willis.  
“You’re both alive.” I’m too out of it to know whose speaking, but I nod.  
“That, wasn’t the best plan I ever had.” I glance up to see their reactions, and my stomach drops when I see the horror on their faces. “What?”


	15. The Last Mistake

A broken gasp at my side makes me turn, and I nearly scream. “Andy! Oh god no!” Blood seeps from his torso, staining the dusty earth. “Andy you’re okay, you hear me? You’re okay.” I don’t know who drags me away, but I know that I’m screaming, fighting to get back to his side. I don’t calm down until the doctor speaks to me.

“Marie, listen to me! He’s not dead yet. I need to get him to the clinic right away!”  
I need to help, to do something, but the door is locked as the doctor does his best. I can’t tear myself away, so I pace. Everyone avoids me, and I don’t know whether to be grateful for that or not. Just when I think I’m going to explode the door opens.  
“How is he?” I need to know he’s okay, that my mistake hasn’t cost him. But Doctor Willis shakes his head.  
“The healing powder isn’t doing anything. I’m so sorry.”  
I push past him into the room. He makes no move to stop me as I approach Andy’s bedside.

His skin is waxy, shining with a sheen of sweat. Shallow gasps fill the room as he struggles to breathe. I almost turn around, run into the night and hide until the dawn finds me, but he rolls his head over at the sound of my footsteps and I can’t break away from his gaze.  
“I’m so sorry Andy. This is all my fault.”  
He shakes his head. “No. If it wasn’t for you I’d be back there.”  
“You wouldn’t be dying.” I take his hand. “If I’d just left you alone you’d be fine.”  
“I would prefer to die here, a free man, than to be in one of their collars and wishing for death for another five years of my life.”  
“What do you mean? You were only there for a few weeks.”  
“Please, don’t make me talk about it. You’re smart Mol- sorry, Marie, I’m sure you can figure out what happened to me.”  
“No.” I shake my head. “Call me Molly. No more names after this. I keep the same one from now on.”  
He smiles. “Glad it’s my one.”  
“You chose well.”  
A moment of silence passes between us, but I’m not willing to spend my last moments with Andy breaking my promises to him. “I said I’d tell you what happened.”  
“You don’t have to.” Speaking’s becoming more painful now, I can tell by the way his breath hitches when he begins his sentences.  
“My brother, the one that left before me, he’s in the Legion. I tried to get his help, and I didn’t realise he’d turn us in. I’m so sorry.”  
“Not your fault. Shoulda told you about them a long time ago. You didn’t know.”  
“My bad choice, your suffering. I wish-”  
“No.” He tries to chase the thought out of me head, but it’s no good. It should have been me. The thought almost consumes me, but I hold it back so I can focus on Andy.  
“Make me one last promise Molly.” He whispers.  
“Anything.”  
“Don’t get captured. Die, escape, but don’t let them take you like they did to the rest of my family.”  
Tears well up in my eyes as I nod. “They’ll never take me alive.”  
He sighs in relief, settling back on the bed. “I’m scared Molly, I don’t want to die. But if it’s all I can do, then I’ll see those Legion bastards in Hell and laugh.”  
I squeeze his hand tight, trying to stay calm enough to comfort him on his last journey.  
“Thank you.” I whisper as his pulse begins to falter. “Thank you for everything.”  
I don’t let go until his hand begins to cool, and even then I have to be dragged away. Sobs rip out of me as the doctor covers Andy’s face with a tattered sheet.

“They’ll pay for this! I swear I’ll make them pay!” I scream as the doctor pushes me outside again. Nobody but the stars listen, so I scream to them instead. Wordlessly mourning for Andy and swearing revenge with my despairing cries. I ignore the lights that flicker on, the glares from opened windows. I just scream at the sky until my throat gives out and I run out of tears to cry.  
I feel a hand on my elbow, guiding me inside. “Come on.” Says Brady. “You need to sit down.”

I shiver even though the fire in the mayor’s office warms the room. Brady places a blanket over my shoulders as I begin to cry again.  
“It’s all my fault.”  
“It’ll be okay. We’re going to hold out and we’ll get right back to business, you’ll see.”  
An iron fist clenches around my heart. “No. You’ll fail. You’ll all die and be forgotten. All those people they took, they didn’t lose their lives for this.” These invaders, the Legion, Andy knew them, there’s no doubt in my mind that this group is part of something much larger than a simple band of raiders.  
“Try to look on the bright side, there’s not much else we can do.”  
“You, maybe not.” Another idea is forming, just as bad as the last one, but this time no one else is at risk. “But I can.” I get to my feet, gathering my weapons. The plasma rifle is gone, but I still have Andy’s rifle, my pistol, and a collection of sharp, deadly knives. “I’m going in.”  
“What?” Brady’s eyes nearly bug out of his skull. “You must be joking. Tell me you’re joking.”  
“If that’ll make you feel better sure, but I’ll be lying through my teeth.”  
He stares at me like I just sprouted another head. “You’re really going to do this? You’re going to run in there waving hello? I don’t care what’s happened to you or to him, this is suicidal!”  
Fifteen bullets for my pistol, twelve for Andy’s rifle, unlimited hits for my knives. “Suicidal implies that I have no chance of surviving. What I’m doing is risky.”  
“You don’t have any chance of surviving! How do you expect to beat them when you’re outnumbered one hundred to one?”  
“Skill, stealth,” I examine a silencer lying at the bottom of my loot pack. Looks like it’ll fit the rifle just fine. “Determination.”  
“Is revenge worth your life?”  
“I’m not going to die. I’m going to kill every damned Legionary in that camp that I can. If the rest of you have to finish the job that’s fine by me. I don’t ask you to understand, just to let me make my own choices.”  
“My father died too.” He’s barely whispering now. “Don’t say I don’t understand how you feel. But dying isn’t going to help.”  
“If you could do something, if you could make a difference, no matter how small, would you stay behind?”  
“I have a duty to this town, they expect me to lead them. I can’t do that from the grave.”  
“But I don’t have to lead them. I can go, and if I don’t survive I can at least help. Bring everyone a step closer to safety.”  
“We need you here.”  
“Doing what exactly? What could I possibly do to fix your dwindling food supply? How can I bring you medicine?”  
No answer.  
“This is what I want to do. If you’re really that keen on keeping me here then fight me.”  
“What?”  
“I’m not staying. The only way you’re keeping me here is in chains, and the only way you’ll get those on me is if you can beat me down first.”  
“I’m not going to do that!”  
“Then I’m going.”  
Before I leave I take the last weapon I have and leave it on the desk. “I promised you a gift before I left, this might be my last chance to give it to you. Use it well.”  
He eyes the crossbow critically. “It could use a few improvements.”  
My laughter sounds strange, high pitched and hysterical as it bubbles from my throat like boiling poison. “That’s the Brady I remember.”  
I drop my pack and head for the door, not even bothering to shut it.

I watch the man in the red skirt closely as he moves into sight of my scope. I’m not far away enough to be sniping, not really, but I want to take out the last sentry before I head in. He crumbles to the ground like somebody cut his strings. The way ahead clear, and I creep down the hill for the second time tonight. If I’m seen now, I’m as good as gone. Silently, I take down the three men that stand in my way, and they paint the earth red with the gashes at their throats. I take the time to hide the bodies, no need to give myself away before the fight really begins.

A loud laugh from the bonfire startles me, but sound means more Legionaries, so I head towards it, waiting for someone to stray out of the light’s safety.  
“So Quintus, she was your sister?”  
“I’ve told you a thousand times, yes. I never expected to see her again.”  
“I never expected to see a woman take down a centurion.” A man with black hair laughs. “Do you think he’ll track her down when he wakes?”  
The traitor snorts. “Perhaps it would be more merciful if he died. When people hear that a woman took him down…”  
“But you said it yourself, your sister is no normal woman.”  
“Didn’t you hear her earlier? She’s emotional and weak. There’s nothing special about her.”  
The dark haired one looks unconvinced. “To me that sounded less like fear, and more like fury. We’d best keep a lookout for trouble at dawn, she’s probably convincing them to move right now.”  
They all murmur their agreement.  
“Anyway, I need to use the latrine. Tell me what I’ve missed when I get back.”

I trail after him, following silently until he reaches the latrines. Like a snake, I strike out as he stands by the edge, catching him right in the carotid artery. I roll his body into the stinking pit to fester and make my way back to the fire.

“She’s too dangerous for anything less than decapitation.” The traitor is saying as I return. “There’s no telling if she’s got tricks up her sleeve.”  
“But perhaps her deeds warrant greater punishment. Must we kill her? Perhaps the centurion would find her a suitable replacement for the capture she stole.”  
“I agree with Quintus. Alive, she’s dangerous. But if she must die that doesn’t mean we can’t draw it out a bit.”  
It seems I have quite the reputation already. But I can’t lie in wait as they list the tortures they want to put me through. Not if I expect to keep my cover anyway. There’ll be time for them later. Find some more, then get back to them.

I’m leaving the bedside of a burly Legionnaire when I hear the alarms sounding. Footsteps thunder past the tent, rushing to position. I roll under the bed as the tent opens.  
“Get up!” An excited man yells. “We’re under attack!” When the figure on the bed doesn’t move he makes his way inside. “Get up Marcus! I swear, the dead will wake before…” His words fail him as he sees the blood, and before he can find them again I’m upon him. My face, twisted in fury, is the last thing he sees before my knife finds his heart.  
Chaos greets me outside. Legionaries run for their weapons, call for their comrades, living and dead. I retreat a bit to take out a few with Andy’s rifle, watching their bodies being trampled in the rush. I move around, changing positions until my ammunition is gone. Twelve bullets, ten bodies. Not bad in all the chaos. I ready my weapons as I make my way back into the fray, trusting the mad rush of people to hide me.

“To arms!” Calls a voice. “When we fight we cannot be defeated!” I sigh and level my pistol at the speaker. The frenzy grows even wilder at the gunshot, and I slip away into the chaos.

A group of three spot me and rush, howling as they ready their machetes. I wait for them with dead eyes and welcome them with knives. I dodge at just the right times and they do most of the work for me. One goes down at the hands of his comrades and the other two follow him to hell when they freeze, shocked at what they’d done.  
One of the ones I’d spied on earlier, the one that suggested making me a slave, falls over when he rounds a corner to find me. For a split second a look of total horror fills his face, then my pistol shouts out its death cry and his life is over.

I fight with whatever comes to hand. My pistol, my knives, even a rock when I get in a tight spot. Again and again the legionaries fall, and again and again I ignore my bleeding wounds to go after the rest. I’ve lost track of how many have gone down when a strong hand seizes my wrist and wrenches my pistol away.  
“You cannot stand against Legion’s might!” The traitor yells as I turn to face him. Ignoring his battle cries, I tackle him to the ground.

My knives are gone, lost in the battle. All that remains is the pistol he tore from my hands. My elbow strikes him right on the nose, sending a fountain of blood gushing down his face. “You bitch!” He screams as I grab for my gun. He tries to yank me back by my ankle, but all he gets is a boot to the face. I hear a scream of agony behind me as he falls into the fire, but I ignore him. Finally, I get my weapon. His eyes widen in his blistered face as I lift it, and he begins to beg for his life.  
“Come on, please. You wouldn’t kill your own brother would you?”  
My last bullet rips through his skull, splattering his brains all over the ground.  
“You’re no brother of mine.” I growl. He lost the right to call himself that long ago.

The last of them fall just like the ones I fought before. They still charge at me, even when they know that they’re going to die. It’s not over until dawn blooms across the sky, red as the blood on my hands. The camp is silent except for the pounding of my heart and the rusty, desperate breaths I pull from the air that shake my body and turn me cold as ice.  
A hollow space inside me already aches with the guilt creeping into it. I know that in the days that come, no matter how much better off the world is now these people are no longer a threat, the ache will turn to a searing burn. And this time Andy won’t be there to help soothe the pain.

My bloodied hands curl into fists as I try to focus on my breathing, to calm myself down, and then I gather as many of my knives as I can find. As I’m searching for ammo I hear a voice.  
“My death will change nothing. Caesar will send more men to take your precious town in his name and you won’t be able to do anything about it.”  
I whirl around, preparing to take down the one that escaped, no matter how bloody the fight. But my eyes land not on an opponent, but on a sickbed.  
Looks like their pig of a commander is still alive, if bedridden. His nose is shattered, left eye almost swollen shut. I relax, not fully, but he isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight.  
“And when they come they’ll find you and the man you tried so desperately to save. You know what they’ll do to you?” A malicious grin crawls over his ruined face. “Everything I did to him and more. You’ll be beaten into submission, and when you’re too broken to resist they’ll hold you down and fuck you until you can’t walk. Maybe they’ll collar you and take you away, and you’ll finally do something worthwhile as you serve us. Or if you keep fighting you’ll die. You know about crucifixion?” A rusty laugh bubbles up inside him, falling from his swollen lips like blood falls from a wound.  
“You’re wrong.”  
“The men know your face. You cannot escape this! When backup comes they’ll be looking for you and you will fall beneath the might of the Legion.”  
“You just woke up didn’t you? Or did you miss the sounds of all your men dying by my hand?”  
“No.” He whimpers in shock. “It can’t be true. They’re the strongest men in the world, you are only a woman. Weak, defenceless-”  
“I took out your scouts first, they never saw me coming. Then I crept through the camp like a sickness, killing every man I met.”  
He slumps back. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”  
“We’ve got time.” I shrug. “And you seem to have some interesting things to say.”  
Fear flashes on his swollen face. “I’m not saying anything else, no matter what you do to me.”  
I take a second to watch him, my face smooth and blank, my eyes dead as his men. “Okay then.”  
Blood stains bedsheets rather than sand, and I sheathe my knife, turning back to town. There’s no ammo that’ll fit here, I’ve checked every tent.


	16. Obliteration

The eyes of the surviving townspeople follow me as I walk through the gate. They hang out the windows, they line the streets, staring at me in my blood-soaked armour. I scan the crowd until I find the mayor, and although my words are meant for all of them, I direct my speech to him.  
“The camp is empty. The invaders dead.” A murmur runs through the crowd, and one man begins to cheer. I hold up my hand to silence him. “However, they were only part of a larger group. There will be reinforcements, and they’ll most likely be coming sooner rather than later.”  
Brady stares at me intently. “What do you suggest?”  
“Evacuation. You have a chance to leave and I say you should take it. Pack whatever supplies you can carry and go west.”  
“What about our homes?” Calls a voice.  
“What about your lives? What about your freedom? You can always rebuild. Leave this place and flee to safety. This might be the only chance you’ll get.”  
Silence fills the air, and I feel a thousand eyes on me as I hold the mayor’s gaze, begging him without words to make the right decision.  
“You heard the lady!” He roars. “We leave in an hour, pack your essentials. Ralph, Leo, you two go down to the camp to scrounge up supplies. Now get moving!”

They scramble into action, packing guns and food and treasured memories. I watch them from the shade of a porch, my face void of emotion even though I want to weep with relief when I see them preparing to head for safety. The men sent down to the camp return with food and water, the doctor straps bags onto the backs of Brahmin and counts the ammo for his plasma rifle. All I do is watch. I don’t move when people pass me by, I don’t move as the gates open. I’ve almost lost the battle with my tears when Brady walks up to me.  
“There’s room for you as well.” He says. “Come with us.”  
The open road is tempting me, beckoning me to run from the pain here that I can’t fix, but I shake my head. “There’s no place for me with you. Besides, I need to put on a funeral.”  
His face softens. “If you’re the last one out then there’s one last thing I need you to do for us.”  
“What is it?”  
“Before you leave you need to burn this place to the ground.” I blink in surprise, but he continues before I can ask why. “If they want our land, then that’s all they’re getting. No buildings, no supplies, no people.”  
Maybe I’m crazy, after all I haven’t seen much evidence of sanity lately, but I nod in agreement. My farewells sound lifeless in my ears, but I make no attempt at cheer. The caravan of refugees vanishes into the pass I was in when I first saw the town.

When Andy was still alive.

My fist gushes red as it shatters through a window. I barely notice the pain though, it’s nothing compared to the grief that shatters my soul.  
By the time I’m finished the whole place looks even more like a warzone. Droplets of my blood soak through wood and dust to stain whatever they can find. Glass litters the road, walls have gaping holes where I ripped through planks of wood with no regard for myself. I would have kept going, but I’m too tired to do anything more than fall to my knees and sob.

Time passes far too slowly, every second I lie in the dust is torture. My wounds throb and begin to itch as they scab over. The sun roasts my skin, reddening it until it blisters and peels. But these are small agonies compared to the swirling dust storm inside my mind.  
It should have been me. I should be the one in that room.

But I have work to do, even if my tasks aren’t pleasant.

Shadows fall from my body to rest on splintered wood that was once something like walls. I stand like a guardian at the edge of the pyre, my figure dark against its brilliance.  
“I’m safe Andy.” I say to the figure wrapped in a shroud of flames. “I kept my promise.”  
Even like this, with his body crumbling to nothingness under the burlap it’s wrapped in, I see Andy alive. I wish for memories of our travels, but they’re shrouded in darkness. Every image of him is marred by the wounds he had when he died. Laughing, he turns his head to speak to me and I can see the red ring around his neck from the collar. His hands reach out to comfort a terrified child that we freed from raiders only seconds ago, but his palms bloom with grazes and cuts that were never there before and his fingers bend sideways. Broken ribs, cuts, bruises, they all stain my memories. He walks with a limp, or breathes too heavily as he sleeps.

The ashes cooling at my feet are easier to look at than his empty and battered shell. It’s almost a relief to place them in the box I found for him. I can hardly feel the burns they leave on my hands.

But it’s not over yet.

I bring the pyre back to a raging inferno, building it higher until I can’t get close enough anymore. Then a trail of fuel is all I need to burn Maereo to the ground. The buildings are already doused in every flammable substance I could find, and that’s a mixture that could ignite if I look at it funny.  
A burning timber is more than enough for me to start the process, and I rest at the top of a cliff to watch the village turn to flames. Then I turn around and I do not look back.


	17. Full Circle

I wander westwards with no destination in mind, hopping from town to town. Everything I used to do when I wasn’t alone, resting during the hottest part of the day, stopping to eat, even sleeping, I forget about as I make my way onwards to nowhere. My back aches from the extra weight of carrying Andy’s ashes, and my heart aches from carrying the weight of my grief. I’m back in Freeside far sooner than I should be, staring at the moon through a broken roof as I try to stay afloat on an ocean of sorrow, playing the recording of me and Andy in the library over and over just to hear his voice again.

I can’t go on like this. Drifting around with nothing. No future, no friends, no family.

But I do have a family, even if the only other person left in it did me nothing but harm. My mother knows things about me, she has to. The only way to hear them for myself is to go back. In a time like this, something, no matter how painful, is far better than the empty sea of nothingness surrounding me now.

I wake up from the first full night of rest I’ve had in days, blinking away the fog of sleep as I fight another scavenger for my bag. The idea I had last night sticks with me as I pack my things. It sticks with me as I walk to the gates. It’s right at the front of my mind as I hesitate and turn towards Boulder City, where I can find my way back.

It’s been a long time since I left, yet I remember the route perfectly, and I’ve arrived on our old grounds much sooner than I would have liked. Pebbles clatter as they fall from my boots onto the rocky earth, but I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts to pay any real attention to it. The mouth of the cave comes into view and I have to take a second to think. What the hell am I doing? What could I possibly hope to find here? But no, I’ve come all this way. I’m not leaving without answers. _You’re a different person_ I tell myself. _She can’t hurt you anymore._ I take a deep breath that does little to calm the frantic thrumming of my heart and enter the cave.

It’s smaller than I remember. Or perhaps the smell only makes it seem that way. Rancid sweat, rotting meat, wood smoke, and something acrid I can’t quite identify fill the air, making me gag. Normally there would be light here, torches or the sun illuminating the stone walls, but there is only shadows, the sun turned away as it dips below the horizon, refusing to give its light here. I pull out a flashlight, unwilling to continue blind. The cave comes into view, bathed in the bright white glow. Now I can see the clutter. Bones of what I pray are animals littering the floor, scraps of fabric and empty bottles scattered around. I lift the flashlight until the light finds a pile in the corner. Burlap sacks for the most part, but if I look closely I can see animal hide and…

That’s hair. Human hair.

The bones crunch under my boots as I make my way across. Now that I’m closer I can see a hand on top of the makeshift blankets. Coated with grime and deathly pale. Gently, I raise Andy’s rifle, easing it under the hand to see if I can get a reaction. As soon as I make contact the pile explodes, hissing ferally as its occupant launches towards me. The shot I fire without thinking goes wide and I find myself slamming against the stony floor, sending bottles clattering as I’m pinned by a snarling figure that scratches and bites like a wild thing. I can barely hold her off, but I have a few new tricks up my sleeve. I jam the rifle’s muzzle into the ground and heave on the stock, flipping us over so I land on her while her shoulders are still in the air. I launch myself forwards so she makes contact with the ground hard. Her body goes limp underneath me and I panic, thinking that I’ve killed her. But she lets out a low groan. Still breathing then, not sure how I feel about that. I ponder my next move. There’s no telling how long she’ll be out, or even if she’s waking up at all. That’s really going to mess up any plans I might have had. Good thing I didn’t bother making one. I feel a hand on my leg, weakly trying to throw me off again, but my mother is too dazed to muster up much force. More conflicting emotions roll around in my chest as I pull a cord from my bag and loop it around her wrists. Her head lolls to the side as she tries to bat me away. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, I never thought I’d be back.” No response. Of course. I sigh and sit back against the wall. Looks like I’m in for a long wait. I’ve barely settled in before I stand up again, wrinkling my nose as I move to sit by the mouth of the cave instead. “Seriously, it’s been years. Have you ever, even once, cleaned anything in here while I was gone? I know it didn’t stink this bad when I lived here.”

Evening turns to night without much in the way of change. Sometimes my mother shuffles a bit or makes a noise, but she never says anything coherent. I’m too on edge to sleep, watching the passage of the moon instead as I clean the dirt out of Andy’s rifle. There’s no telling what’s going to happen when we start talking, and I want to be prepared. The moon is just touching the horizon, right on the edge of setting when I hear her speak.

“What the fuck are you doing back here?” She snarls. “I should kill you for leaving.”  
My stomach flips. I had almost let myself forget this, let the years of comfort and friendship drive the memories from my mind. Being back here, hearing her voice, it disturbs me more than anything. More than the hunger and thirst. More than the bodies and blood. But I do not let it show. She can never know how the mere sound of her voice sets my heart thrumming like a frightened bird want out of my chest. She can’t have that power over me again.  
“Don’t you dare push me. I’ve lost everything mother. The life I built for myself is gone. If you push me I’m going to break, and if I break I’m going to break you too.” The cold, quiet tone to my voice is more terrifying than any amount of yelling could be. I can see its affected her, see her shudder as I walk towards her. Her voice trembles the next time she speaks.  
“Why did you come back?”  
“I want answers. I want to know who we are, where we came from.”  
“You’re not exactly doing a good job of convincing me.” God, even bound she frightens me. “You attack me, knock me out, tie me up, and you want answers? Go to hell.”  
“As I recall it was you that attacked me. I defended myself. End of story.”  
Her face flushes. “You little bitch!” She cries. “How dare you question me?”  
“You don’t control me anymore.”  
“Untie me you ungrateful brat!”  
The urge to obey returns, stronger than I’ve felt it in years. But I shake my head.  
“How dare-”  
“Oh just shut up will you!” I snap.  
My mother gapes at me, wide eyes shining in her dirty face. I take advantage of the silence.  
“First of all my name is Molly. Not girl, not bitch. Got it?” She nods her reply. “Second is the fact that you are going to tell me everything. Who we are, where we came from, and what your fucking problem is.”  
“I don’t understand. I don’t have any problems. Well, aside from you that is.”  
“You can’t fool me with that mother. I’ve seen the world, met people. You know what most of them don’t do? They don’t hole themselves up in the middle of nowhere and attack anyone they see. They don’t make four year olds kill people and they don’t treat their children the way you treated us!”  
“I had my reasons!”  
“Then tell me! Tell me why you took away the life I could have had growing up. Tell me why we didn’t live on a farm or travel in a caravan or hell, why we didn’t scour Freeside for scraps.”  
“I wanted safety!”  
“What from? I haven’t found anything that justifies this!”  
She doesn’t reply, so I change track.  
“How’s your head?”  
She glares at me. “How do you think it feels? It fucking hurts.”  
I shrug. “Don’t expect me to feel bad about that, you’ve hurt me plenty of times.”  
“I let you heal yourself.”  
“Oh whoop-de-doo.” I roll my eyes. “Sure you can beat me within an inch of my life but it’s no problem because you send me to figure out medicine. Do you realise how full of shit you are?”  
But I don’t want to leave her like this, it’s not what Andy would have done. “Hold still.” I sigh as I pull my medical supplies from the bag at my waist.  
“I haven’t seen a stimpak in years.” She says as I press the needle into her head.  
“You knew about these?”  
“Of course. Who doesn’t know about stimpaks?”  
“That would be me.”  
“Ah.”  
I ignore her discomfort. “Give it a few minutes and you should be good to go.” I say.  
No thanks offered. Not that I’m surprised of course, but I’d been holding out hope.  
“You gonna answer me or not?”  
She sighs, leaning back against the wall of the cave. “Stop it.”  
“No I will not. You know why I’m here. You know that I’m not leaving without what I want. I’m not your pet mother. I don’t do what you tell me anymore.”  
“Please.” I’ve never seen her like this, so small and fearful. I think I was less afraid when she was yelling at me. But I don’t let up.  
“Tell me. You owe me answers.”  
“I don’t owe you anything.” Her eyes are screwed shut. “Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone.” She chants.  
“Answer me!”  
Though I’ve made no move towards her she falls backwards. “Don’t hurt me!” She cries.  
Wrong, it feels wrong to be doing this to someone. But I’m sure she knows what she’s doing to me. So I fight back the feeling and ask. “Why are you avoiding the question?”  
She doesn’t reply. She just rocks back and forth, whimpering. _This isn’t a trick._ I realise. _She’s really frightened of me._ “Hey.” I try to soothe her. “Hey it’s alright.”  
She doesn’t move. I edge towards to her, trying not to startle her again. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you want some water?”  
“Yes.” She replies in a tiny voice.  
She takes the bottle I offer her, sipping mechanically. I’m shocked at her reaction. Nothing like this has ever happened before.  
“Forgot.” She says after a few minutes.  
“What did you forget?”  
“You’re not him.” She blinks back tears. “You really want to know where we’re from?”  
“It’s bad then?”  
“Yeah.” She sighs and holds out her hands. “I can’t talk about it, too painful, but if you let me out I can show you.”  
I eye her warily. “No funny business, understand?” She nods, so I cuts the cord around her wrists.  
She scurries to the back of the cave and begins to dig at the wall, shifting rocks away to reveal a small alcove in the stone.   
“How long has this been here?” I ask.  
“Always I guess.”  
A rough wooden box, something that she must have made herself. That’s what she’s been keeping in her hiding place. She holds it out to me, not meeting my eyes as I take it.  
“Can you- Can you not open that in here?” she asks me timidly. “I don’t want to see what’s in it again.”  
I nod and step into the cool night air.

The box, such a simple thing, yet it holds so much. My hands shake as I ease the lid open.


	18. In The Beginning

It’s full of holotapes. When I look closely I see that they’ve got dates written on them. Carefully I take them out of the box, placing them in order. All that’s left once I’ve finished are some wires and pieces of scrap. The remains of a recording device. I pull my own holoplayer from my bag, removing the precious recording of Andy’s voice, and with a deep breath insert the first tape.

Is this really what I want? My mother had been affected like nothing I’d ever seen before. What on earth could be on these tapes that would make her react like that? But I’ve come too far now. If I walk away this is going to haunt me with every step I take, invading my dreams and my waking thoughts until I go mad. I steel myself and press play.  
“To whoever is listening to this, my name is Cecelia Matron.” I wouldn’t have recognised the voice if it hadn’t been speaking to me in the exact same fearful tone before. My mother sounds younger than before, her voice a higher pitch and without the weight her experience gives it. “I don’t know how much longer we can hold out. A huge group of raiders called The Legion attacked our village, Blackburn.” A chill goes over my skin when I hear that, and memories of running until I collapse in the dirt and fighting until that dirt is red call for my attention. But I push them back down, trying to focus on the recording instead. “We never even knew about them until now. We were able to keep them from overrunning the place at first, but they’re back. There’s so many of them. God, and what they’ve done to the people they captured.” No more words are needed. I’ve seen Legion atrocities first-hand. “These aren’t humans, they’re monsters. No person would do that to somebody else. If, when, they attack again, I’m going down fighting. It’s better than anything that could happen if-” Gunshots interrupt her, and shouts sound in the distance. “Oh, oh fuck! They’re here! How did they get in? Where’s my gun?” The sound of breaking wood, louder and closer than the meaningless yells rips through the air and the recording cuts off with Cecelia’s terrified screams.

There’s no sound but the frantic thrum of my heart. Everything else that happened I could guess, there’s no need to pry any further, but I have to admit that underneath to horror I feel, past the nausea it causes me, I’m curious. I know so little about her. Hell, I didn’t even know her _name_ until just now. Against my better judgement I loosen my death-grip on the player to play the second part of this story.

My mother’s, Cecelia’s, voice is barely a whisper now. It doesn’t take me long to discover why. “We’re lost. I can still see Blackburn glowing in the distance, even though it’s been three days.” The despair in her voice is unmistakable, and despite myself I feel a pang of sympathy. When I encountered the Legion at least I was able to do something about it, she was helpless against them without a weapon. “They’ve captured a bunch of us, the rest they chained up and burnt with the town. I’d run, but they have some kind of collars. If we try anything like that then our heads will explode. Saw it myself when Drew made a break for it. Why do these exist? What kind of person would-” Footsteps approach, and I hear desperate scrambling as Cecelia hides her recorder. A male voice speaks, and though I don’t recognise it I feel chills down my spine at its cruel tone.  
“What’s happening over here?’ He demands, but only silence answers him. I can almost feel the terror of the prisoners, see them staring at the ground, praying that the man before them doesn’t notice them, that if he chooses to single someone out it’s the person chained next to them. “If I hear any more noise, silence won’t help you. I’ll find out who’s whispering, and I’ll make sure that no one else will even think of speaking out of turn.” Cecelia breathes a sigh of relief as his footsteps retreat and she switches off the device with a click.

I don’t wait now. I switch holotapes as quickly as I can without damaging them and press play, wanting to hear more of my mother’s story even though a part inside me recoils in disgust.

“It’s been a month since the attack.” She barely sounds afraid now, but her voice is so weary, so beaten down that I feel tears building up behind my eyes. “I didn’t know what they wanted with us when we arrived, but unfortunately I found out. Labour. They keep slaves here. I know it’s wrong, so, so wrong, but I can’t even work up the energy to care. It’s worse for me. I’m female and” She breaks off and shows the first sign on emotion in this recording so far, a small sniffle, barely there proof that she can still feel. “That means I don’t even get seen as a person. Some of the children they took are being trained as soldiers, but only the boys. The women, god. It could be worse though. I mean, it’s not good here, but I’ve seen some of my old friends from home around in much worse shape than me. At least I’m allowed to talk sometimes. And I’ve never been beaten in public. God, I can’t believe that something like that is good now. I, I need some time to think.”

I feel sick to my stomach, and I lie in the dust, taking deep breaths to try and squash the rising tide of rage and horror inside me. I want to run, or to fight, or maybe just lie here and cry until I see the sun on the horizon. But I don’t do any of those things. Instead I play the next tape.

“I don’t know why I keep making these recordings. It makes me feel better somehow, but it’s useless. Not to mention risky. But today I need to say something, even if it might get me killed. There’s nothing they can do to me now that matters.” I want to scream at her to be quiet, to tell her that she’s already suffered enough and shouldn’t put herself in more danger. But I choke the urge back, telling myself that she couldn’t hear me and nothing I said would make any difference. “I-I’m pregnant.” Oh god. If I’d felt bad before it was nothing compared to this. I can’t hold back the tears that spill from my eyes, but who I’m crying for, myself or her or everyone in the world, is a mystery. My mother’s voice grows frantic as she speaks. “It’s horrible. I don’t want this. I can’t do this! But I don’t get a choice. That… that bastard that bought me. He’s so smug I want to punch him. He keeps going on about how I’m going to provide him sons, this only being the first.” I grit my teeth. From what I know of the Legion whatever happened after this baby, after I, was born female wasn’t good. “I’m scared. Terrified, as a matter of fact. What’s going to happen to me if I give birth to a girl? What’s going to happen to the baby? I’m not ready to be a mother! I can’t take care of a child in this environment!” Her voice quiets, almost to a whisper. It’s so full of despair that I can feel a deep pain in my chest, hollow and aching like something was carved out of me. “Why did this happen? How did I screw up like this? I meant to die fighting.”

I stare numbly at the device in my hands. The next tape lies on the ground, dull metal somehow still finding enough light to glow. Guilt, although I know somewhere in the back of my mind that nothing I’ve heard is my fault, more than curiosity prompts me to pick it up. But I can’t play it. Not yet, not while I’m still processing what I’ve heard. I curl into a ball, nails digging into my arms as I let out an inhuman growl. My mind is a jumble, thoughts not even coherent enough to be called thoughts tumble around. I’m awash on a sea of emotions so intense I can’t even begin to understand them. It might only take a few minutes, or perhaps days and days have gone by, but I eventually find something I recognise, sitting in a ball in my stomach, so cold that it burns me like a cazador sting. Fury. Fury at the Legion for the atrocities that they committed in the name of their dammed leader and their twisted ideals. Fury at the man that put my mother through this. Fury at myself for adding to her suffering. It doesn’t matter right now that is was out of my control, the feeling is there all the same. This thread of understanding is a lifeline in a sea of confusion, and I use it to pull myself back to shore, letting my rage build up and shape my thoughts, transforming raw emotion into words. Once my mind is my own again I take a deep breath. The next tape is likely to hit me hard as well, and I want to be prepared for it, but how do you prepare yourself for a story like this? Told in a way that’s so personal that I can hardly bear it, by someone so different that I can barely recognise her as the same woman that beat and starved me. Someone I can only see as the type of person I live to help. _You can’t._ I answer myself. _You just need to push on, to understand. These things are a part of you, but not the whole._ The voice I use to try and comfort myself sounds so much like Andy that I think I might start crying again. But I don’t. Instead I play the next tape.

“I gave birth today.” Her voice is even more tired than before, with the voice of someone with a strained body layered over the top of the voice of a person that undergoes mental abuse on a daily basis. “I never want to do that again. I lay there in horrible pain for a full day. I didn’t even know pain like that was possible. I’ve not even seen the baby yet. I don’t know what happened to it. I’m too tired to care, I never wanted it anyway. Maybe it died and won’t have to suffer this life. It feels so wrong to say that, but it’s the truth. It’d be better of dea-” Footsteps, muffled by something, tell Cecelia that she needs to hide the recorder, her lifeline. A tent opens, the sound of the fabric bringing me back to that camp, the damage they dealt, the revenge I sought. A deep male voice speaks, chilling me to the bone. It could be a nice voice if it wasn’t for the icy cold malice it carried, the promise of suffering if its owner was disappointed.

“You’re awake” No relief, no disappointment. It was just a statement of fact.  
“Where’s the baby?” If hadn’t have been so horrified I would have laughed. My mother was worried about me, asking after me? It seem too ridiculous to be true.  
“It’s being inspected.” I bristle in indignation, although I don’t know why. “The girl seems healthy enough, but we need to figure out if she’ll be useful.’  
“I have a daughter?”  
“I’m disappointed, you know we want boys.”  
“I’m sorry.” I can almost see her cringing. She’s been on the receiving end of the anger his voice promises more than a few times. You’d need to be deaf not to hear it, and perhaps even that wouldn’t do it.  
But not this time. I feel my shoulders relax as the man speaks again. “Do better next time, or you will truly find out the meaning of that word.” He leaves, and I can tell by the sound of the tent flap that Cecelia is alone again.  
“I have a daughter.” It should be a statement filled with wonder. This should be a happy occasion, but all I hear in her voice is fear, and I hate the people that twisted what should have been a good thing so thoroughly that it wasn’t even recognisable anymore. Joy replaced by terror and pain, creating a mockery of life as a whole, right from the very beginning. “By god, what’s going to happen to her?”

I feel numb. This is almost too much for me. I lie back and stare at the sky, noticing the way it lightened around the edges as dawn approaches. The thought flits into my head that I’ve heard my father now, but even that doesn’t shock me. I can still feel the ache of it though, that this man, this evil man, was the reason I was here now. The reason I could see the darkness of night fading into daylight. The reason I could dig my fingers into the earth beneath me to try to connect to something. Everything I experienced, everything I was. It was all because of him.

I feel tears well up in my eyes. But maybe there’s something in the recordings. Not comfort, I feel far beyond that, but understanding. Something to help me come to terms with everything. With hands that tremble and shake, I begin the next tape.

“It’s not been long since my last recording, but I’m going to risk it. I met the baby for the first time today when the priestesses gave her to me for feeding. I-I’ve been told to keep her. I don’t know what to do. I could kill her, make sure she never has to live like I do.” Cecelia paused for a second, and I silently beg her to tell me why. “No, I can’t. She doesn’t deserve this, she just had the misfortune to be born here. I can’t kill a baby, but every time I look at her I see his face. Her eyes are so blue, just like his. It’s awful. I’m actually disgusted by her. She doesn’t deserve it, I know that, but I can’t help myself. I wish she looked like me, then I might actually be able to look at her without feeling ill. The poor kid isn’t going to have it easy. I don’t know what to do. I want to protect her, but I’m so helpless here.”

The recording cuts out, and I can’t help staring at my reflection in the recorder’s glass case. My own eyes stare back at me, an icy blue that I’d never attached any significance to before. The expression in them offers some comfort, the reflection of what was truly me, the mixture of anger and terror that is swirling inside of me that I alone can feel. Curious, I rearrange my face. I pull down my brows and twist the corners of my mouth into a snarl of fury. This is what he would have looked like, the monster that did this. I don’t stop though. Painstakingly I recreate the expression I’ve only worn in situations of great peril, where if I couldn’t get the person in front of me to back down, or at least hesitate, I was going to die, or worse. It was the expression that I’d worn when facing my brother down in his tent. The expression that the Centurion had refused to take seriously, and paid the price for. The expression that was been the last thing that so many raiders and Legionaries have seen before waking to hell with a bullet in them.

The expression I’d worn when I tried to get my mother to talk. Without even realising it.

Finally, I’m jolted out of my numb state. No wonder she was afraid of you. Between the changes in my voice over the last few years, even though I don’t sound exactly like him, and my face, my eyes, twisted and threatening, it was too close.

This one I shouldn’t try and talk myself out of being guilty for. I shouldn’t have tried to intimidate her, I’d struck old wounds that I didn’t even know existed. That’s right, you didn’t know. It sounds hollow, but all I can do now is apologise and move on, and swear never to make her relive that again. It’s all I can do to save the frightened woman in the recordings that tugs at my heartstrings.

The next tape is in my hand before I even notice myself picking it up. I swallow back bile, praying for some hope in this story. That this time round it would be better.  
“It’s been a while. I guess I’ve not had much to say, but now something awful has happened. I’m pregnant again.” My stomach drops. I’d been hoping that we weren’t full siblings, hoped that my mother had met somebody she cared about enough to get close to. That one of us gave her happy memories to look back on. “I don’t want to go through this. I don’t want to risk having another girl, I know what will happen to me if I do, and thinking about it fills me with dread. I can’t stay. I know I’ve said that before, but this time I mean it. I know where that bastard keeps the key to my collar, I just need to get it. But I can’t rush into this. I have to know that I’ll be able to get away for good. I won’t record anything more until I’m free.” Her voice hardened with resolve now, she’s almost familiar as she defiantly finishes her speech. “If you’re the bastard that bought me, finding this after I’m dead, do me a favour and go piss off something large and dangerous. Seriously, go fuck yourself.”

I feel proud of my mother in spite of myself. That couldn’t have been easy for her. I don’t dwell on it though, I just switch to the next tape, wanting to see more of that, the determination that kept her alive and got us free.

“I can’t believe it. I’m out. I even got my daughter out.” I can hear the smile she’s wearing as though it attaches a little part of itself every syllable. “It’s a weight off my shoulders knowing that she won’t suffer like I did. I’m making a promise right here and now that neither of my babies will ever be held captive. I’m going to teach them to fight, teach them everything I know. To keep their weapons close so they won’t be caught out like I was. I have the collar too, once I’ve examined the technology, I can teach them to disarm it if worst comes to worst. I can’t let anyone know where we are. If the Legion finds us we’re dead in the most horrible way possible. I can’t risk speaking with anyone, they could be spies for the Legion. I’m walking until I find us somewhere safe to stay.”

This was the answer I’d been searching for. She was trying to keep us safe. I should feel grateful, just like she said so many times, but the only thought I have is about how she’d done it in the worst way possible. There’s doubt in my mind, nibbling it, impossible to ignore, that this wasn’t all for our benefit. I decide to deal with it later though, and move on for now.

“I came across a cave today. There’s springs nearby, and game and plants in the area. Most importantly, it’s isolated. This will suit our needs perfectly.”  
Was that it? I push the machine’s buttons a few times, trying to find more. Nothing. Perhaps this wasn’t as important to her as everything else was, or maybe she was just tired from travelling for god knows how long with a baby on her back.

“I gave birth today, alone in a cave.” My brother. I never knew that he was born in this cave. “Well, I suppose that the girl was there, but she’s only about a year old, so not much help from her. It’s a boy, which means that I could have stayed and I would have lived. I don’t really regret leaving, but its food for thought. He seems healthy at least, his lungs seem plenty strong. It took me a long time to get him to sleep. The girl heard him and started crying too. This made him cry harder. I had to put the girl outside to get him to settle down. It was hard enough with just her. A second baby to take care of is going to make things more difficult, but I’ll make it work.” I hear it again, the defiance burning through, the refusal to give in. “Hell, I escaped didn’t I? I’ll make this work.”

Less drama for his birth, even though it was far more dangerous than mine. Alone, no hope of aid if something went wrong. I take a moment to marvel at the fact she survived it. The next tape is dated further into the future, three years in fact. I can’t help but wonder what made her stop using it, and what made her pick it up again.

“I’ve left this old thing alone for years, but I need to talk to something. We’re surviving at least, but I fear that we may be at risk. I encountered a Legion scout.” My head shoots up, and I’m listening to every word. “I don’t know what he was doing in the area, but it’s not likely to be anything good. I was able to capture him somehow, but he didn’t tell me anything useful. He mostly insulted me as a matter of fact. I made the girl kill him.” My stomach twists at the memory of the broken and bloodied man before me. My small hands barely able to grip the knife because they were shaking so hard. “She hasn’t spoken since, but she’ll get over it. She won’t have nearly as much trouble using deadly force in a fight now. I don’t need to look at a Legion uniform ever again if I train my children well. We’re all one step closer to being safe.”

All? I can’t help laughing at that. I was right. This wasn’t for our benefit. All she wanted was a couple of guard dogs. These recordings were her most private thoughts though. She might have actually believed what she said if it’s on here. That thought, more than anything else keeps me from going right back inside and yelling. There’ll be time later. Get through these first.

The next few tapes all detail our training. I listen to her justifications of it. About how we wouldn’t be captured and we’d all stay safe. They’re actually the most boring things I’ve heard so far. But it’s a relief after the turmoil of the past few hours. I compare my own memories with my mother’s view, sometimes snorting when she gets something so wrong I can’t even begin to understand her logic, sometimes finding a new way to look at something, whether it makes the memory better or worse. Finally there’s just one tape left.  
Somehow I know what it’s going to say before I even look at it but it doesn’t take away the guilt when I hear the panic in her voice. “Those ungrateful brats! They’re gone. They both left me. The boy first, the girl a few days later. I don’t know what I did. I just wanted to protect us, and now they’re out there all alone. Why did they leave? It’s not safe out there. They’re going to be captured and I’m defenseless if the Legion finds me alone. They made me break my vow.” The last of her panic ebbs and anger flows instead, taking its place. “They should’ve stayed with me. Why did they leave? What the fuck were they thinking? They belong here, with me. I know what’s best. How dare they?”  
Unlike the other recordings, this one ends with a cacophony of destruction. Something smashes very close to the recorder, so loud I can barely hear my mother’s furious sobbing.  
I stare over the mountains, watching the pink sky as I try and order my thoughts. They swirl around my mind like dust, screaming for attention. I work through them piece by piece. Slowly coming to the inevitable conclusion. Even if I can forgive my mother for everything she’s done, I’ll never, not even if I live a thousand years, forget the pain she put me through.

I look back towards the cave that I’ll never be able to call a home and sigh. We have a lot to talk about. No sense in putting it off any longer.


	19. Empty Promises

My mother looks different now. More like a person than a terrifying god. I don’t know if knowing her story makes me look at her differently, or if it’s the tiredness that clings to her like a frightened child.

“Cecelia.” I say.  
She looks up at me. “I haven’t heard my old name in a very long time.”  
I sit next to her, relaxing against the wall. “You’re very brave.” She smiles, opening her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “But you’re wrong. There’s so much you don’t know.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“If you can’t understand why we left, you’re missing something big. You hurt us. You hurt us so much we couldn’t stay.”  
“It was to-”  
“I know why you did it. Probably better than you do. You say you want to keep us safe, to protect us?” She nods. “That might be a part of it, I’ll admit that, but from what you said in those recordings I can see something different.”  
Her eyes are wide. “What?”  
“You wanted us to guard you, make you feel safe. You turned us into weapons and drove us away. I wouldn’t stay here and suffer any more than you’d go marching back into the hands of the Legion.”  
“I never-”  
“What you did to us, I understand the reasons you did it. You were so afraid that you couldn’t tell who was your friend and who was trying to kill you. You’ve been hurt to by what they did to you. Old wounds you never treated and expected to heal on their own.”  
“I can’t do anything about it! Anybody could be a spy. Anybody!”  
“I have to ask you one question. Have you actually gotten free yet?”  
“They can’t touch me here.”  
“That doesn’t mean that they don’t have a hold on you. What have you run to? Freedom? This isn’t freedom, living in fear like this. It’s letting them win.”  
She’s crying softly, but I push on. Gently though, like I’m talking to a frightened child.  
“There are people who’ll help you, whose job it is to help you.”  
She shakes her head. “Spies.”  
“They helped me.” A moment of silence passes. “Can you read?” I ask.  
“Huh? Yes I can.” A little frown creases her forehead. “Why?”  
I pull out a sheet of paper and begin to write down directions for her. She watches curiously as I work.  
“I never taught you useless shit like that.”  
“You’ve not been my only teacher.” I read over the instructions one last time before handing them to her. “I can’t force you to leave here, and even if I could I wouldn’t, but if you ever want a better life the Followers will help you.”  
She eyes the paper suspiciously. “You mean it? They’ll help?”  
I nod. “They’ll give you with a place to stay, help you with your trauma, they might even give you a job if you want to join up.”  
“How do you know all this?”  
“They did it for me, and dozens of other people I’ve met while travelling.”  
“That many people need help?”  
“The world is a big place, scarier than anything I imagined. But it’s also so much better.”  
“Tell me.” She pleads. “You know my story. Please, let me share yours.”  
Dangerous. Too dangerous. I can’t tell her everything, but I won’t leave her without anything. It just seems unfair, even after everything she’s done.  
The holoplayer is still locked tight in my grasp. I pull out my most treasured memory from my pocket and let it play.

_Andy? What’s that thing you’re waving around?_  
_It’s a recorder. Say hi Molly!_  
_You’re such a dork._  
_I’m going to siiiiing!_  
_No! Please spare me that!_  
_Awww. You’re no fun._

Just as my mother gave me a side of herself I’d never seen before, I give her a side of me. She listens as Andy teases me, and eventually convinces me to sing with him. We laugh and joke together. Happy. I switch off my player when the tape ends.  
“Who was that?”  
I fix her in my stare, carefully though, not letting any trace of the monster show on my face despite my simmering rage. “The man that raised me since I was fifteen.”  
“Where is he now?”  
Pain blossoms in my chest, but I’ve done too much crying today. My voice is flat and emotionless when I simply say. “He died.”  
“Oh.” Genuine sorrow fills her face. “Molly, I’m so sorry.”  
I sigh. “I think I should go now. I’ve done everything I can for you. The rest depends on the choices you make.”  
“Wait.” She holds out a hand to keep me seated. “Please, just a little longer. I’ve been alone ever since you left.”  
I want to snap at her, to ask whose fault it really is that she was left behind, but instead I lean back against the wall. “Tell me about Blackburn.” A history I never knew I had lies in that place. I want to know more.

She launches into stories about her home. The town that was gutted by fire when the war happened, only to have the charred stone remains fixed by settlers. In time, plants grew from the ashes and the town prospered. My mother was born, and chose to begin training as a fighter at the young age of twelve. It wasn’t common, she explained, for a child so young to start fighting, but she hadn’t let up. Eventually they welcomed her. Small, not as strong as the others, but she was the swiftest fighter they had.  
“Until…” She doesn’t have to say anymore.

A moment of silence passes between us. I’m thinking that I should go, but Cecelia speaks again.  
“I looked for you two you know. First time I left our grounds since I got out.”  
I stare at her in surprise. “How far?”  
“I went west a few miles. Didn’t find anything so I ran back.”  
Hope fills me, or at least something resembling it. There isn’t a word for what you feel when someone that hurt you might be able to help themselves. But maybe my mother can make this work out, find the courage to seek the help she needs. Become someone that she can be proud of. “I really have to leave now. I can’t be in this place another minute.”  
She doesn’t stop me from standing this time. But her forlorn face almost pulls me back.  
“Do you know anything about what happened to your brother?”  
I stop dead in my tracks. My mind freezes, but my mouth doesn’t. “I met him a while back. He’d changed. A lot. And I couldn’t stay with him.” No need to tell her everything, today’s been draining enough already. A small lie will hurt less than the truth.  
“If you see him again promise me you’ll tell him what happened here?”  
A lump rises in my throat. “Cross my heart.” I say.  
It’s strange, leaving and knowing I’m never coming back. Last time I wasn’t able to think clearly. I was just focusing on getting out as fast as possible. Now that I’m steadier I realise that I might never see this place again.

Good riddance. There’s too many bad memories here. I spit at the cave before I turn away.

I’ve done everything I can for her, and far more than I ever had to. I feel no guilt about leaving my mother behind. But the swirling storm of emotions that built up over the night is beginning to creep back into me, weighing me down just as much as the burden of Andy’s death. I stop when I reach the road, feeling sick. _There’s nothing you can do. None of it was your fault._ True, even if I’m having trouble believing myself. I groan, deciding to get to Novac as quickly as I can and drink until it doesn’t hurt anymore.


	20. Limbo

“This is all you’ve got?” I ask, my annoyance clear to anyone looking.  
“We’ve not exactly got a bar here. Take it or leave it.”  
I glare at the single bottle of vodka. At least it’s strong. “Ah fuck. Better than nothing.” I slap some caps on the counter and grab the bottle, taking a gulp straight out of it.  
“Uhm.” I glare at the shopkeeper, whatever his name is, ticked off that I’m being interrupted.  
“Yeah? What is it?”  
His mouth opens and closes a few times, maybe I would have laughed if I was in a better mood. “Bad day?” He asks eventually.  
“My day was fine.” I say as I take another swig of booze. “Now leave me the fuck alone.” Fuck this place. I’m going where they’ve got an actual saloon. I’m heading for Nipton.

By the time I approach the town I’m more than a little drunk. The lights blur as I stumble in. They’re prettier like this. Maybe I should do this more often. Although being drunk off my face does have some drawbacks. Like lack of balance, as I find out when a slightly larger than usual bump in the ground sends me sprawling in the dirt.  
“Shit.” I whisper. But when I go to take another sip of my drink I find it soaking into the ground. “Shit!” Things aren’t getting much better. I stare at the empty bottle, wondering if it was even worth picking up again. I decide it’s not, though it takes me longer than usual, and stumble into a seedy looking bar.

It’s loud enough that nobody notices when I enter, not even the bartender. I slump over the bar, trying to get myself into a seat. My legs don’t want to cooperate though, and eventually I give up. “Oi, barkeep!” Now he notices me, if he’s offended by my tone though, he doesn’t show it. “Waddya got that’s strong?”  
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I blink at him, and suddenly a smile plasters itself across my face. Too wide, too many teeth, but I don’t care.  
“Hell no. I’m still standing and while I’m standing I’m gonna keep drinking.”  
The man next to me snorts into his whiskey. “That’s the spirit kid.”  
My eyes don’t want to focus, but I look in his direction anyway. “Literally.”  
He laughs again. “What’ve you been drinking, vodka?” I nod. “What happened to it?”  
“Tripped on’m way here. Waste of good booze if you ask me.”  
“Ahh, that’s too bad. Hey tell ya what. I’m gonna replace that bottle for you. He waves at the bartender, although he’s right there, still watching us. “Vodka my good man.”  
I make another effort to get into the chair, and this time I manage it. The man gives me a round of applause and I almost topple over when I try to take a bow.  
“So,” he asks when my drink is in front of me. “Are you drinking to celebrate, or drinking to forget?”  
“Forget. Which is stupid ‘cos I went lookin’ for answers.”  
“Same.” He raises his glass. “To regrets. May this sweet sweet booze drive away the pain.”  
“Amen.” I slur. A bit of drink dribbles down my face when I go to take a sip.  
“Name’s Ash.” He says after a minute. “Always forget to introduce m’self.”  
“Molly.” The name sends a fresh pang of grief through me, although it’s dulled by the alcohol. I cover it up by taking another sip.  
“Pleased’t make yer acquaintance Molly.”  
“Same. D’ya live here?”  
His laugh is a little too loud, but it sets me off too. “Naw. ‘M with a caravan.” He tips his hat to cover his eyes. “Well, I was.”  
“Ahh, that fucking sucks man.”  
“S’all righ’.” He mumbles. “Got paid for ‘m last run. Paid good too. Plentya money to blow on whatever.”  
“Booze.” I say with a grin.  
“Ya got me. It’s mostly booze.”  
More laughter. I can feel my chest lightening. “Waddabout you?”  
“Worst week of my fucking life.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this, but it seems like a good idea for some reason. “Guy who raised me died an’ as if tha’ weren’t bad ‘nuf jus’ today I went back to my piece of shit mother to try an’ find out wha’ made her act like a piece of shit. It wasn’t anythin’ I wanted to hear, believe me.”  
Ash stares at me and I worry for a second that he’s going to leave. But he flags down the bartender again. “More vodka. An’ make it a double this time wouldja?”

My head is pounding like someone’s beating it from the inside. I groan, dragging a hand over my face to block out the sunlight. “Fuck.”  
Last night comes back to me in bits and pieces. I had gotten way drunker than I thought I’d be able to, but I wasn’t about to complain about that. The hangover, however, needs to be dealt with. Preferably using the same medicine that’d gotten me like this. The world spins as I try to sit up and a wave of nausea hits me. I roll over and start retching. Urgh. Everything’s too loud, too bright, and it’s almost overwhelming, but I’m able to recognise the place of last night’s binge. _What fucker put me on the porch?_ The idea of having to walk all the way inside makes me groan again, and I make a promise to either pass out inside or bring a few bottles out with me next time.

Once I manage to get myself inside things seem much better. The windows are so grimy that they barely let in any light, and there’s booze to keep me going. The bartender’s eyes widen as he sees me stagger through the door.  
“It’s nine in the morning and you were wasted last night. What are you even doing here?”  
My hangover doesn’t make me any more polite. “Hit me. Whatever you’ve got.”  
“You might have a problem girlie.”  
“So?” God it’s getting hard to think. Every sound grates against my ears. “That just means more money for you.” He sighs and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

The days acquire a blurry tone to them as I begin to get into a rhythm. If I’m careful I barely need to spend any time at all in hangover-land, and can just stay in the safe, fuzzy place where everything hurts less. I’m not sure how long I’m there, being liable to pass out at any moment doesn’t help if you want to keep track of time, but one evening as I’m finishing my fourth shot of whiskey I spot a familiar mane of blonde hair. I blink, trying to place the memory. When the woman turns to speak to her drinking companion I get a look at her face.  
“Mary!?” I call.  
She looks over her shoulder and grins when she sees me. Yep, that’s her alright. And Lillian’s here too, staring at me with a furrow between her brows.  
“Heeeyyy!” I stumble over to them and give them both a big hug. “How ya doin’?”  
“It’s really you!”  
“Yep, least it was las’ time I looked.” I hold my hands in front of my face and pretend to study them closely. “Yeah, these are my hands.”  
I’m laughing fit to burst, but the other two don’t seem to be amused. “Are you okay?” Lillian asks.  
“Better’n okay. ‘M doin’ great!”  
“You’re drunk.” Mary sounds concerned, but I don’t pay any attention to it.  
“Sure am! Wanna join me?”  
“Errr.” Mary glances awkwardly at Lillian.  
“Can’t.” She says shortly. “Not drunk like you are anyway.”  
“You’re not gonna get drunk like me. I’ve been working on this for days!” I beam proudly at them before another fit of laughter hits me. It’s starting to hurt my throat, but I can’t stop. Ever since I woke up under the bar one night I’ve felt a heavy, tingly weight through my hands, like I’m wearing thick, fuzzy gloves that aren’t quite touching me.   
“You need to sit down a minute. Maybe drink some water-”  
“Aww, I’m fine Lillian.” I feel great as a matter of fact, except for the fact that the room’s spinning, and the ground’s lurching. Actually, I think I’m gonna throw up.  
I’m barely able to move away from the table before everything comes up again. The bile and booze burn my throat as they come up, only made worse by the fact that I’ve barely eaten in the past few days. With that over with I turn back to the bar. “I’ll get ‘nother shot of whiskey thanks.”  
“No you won’t.” I’ve never seen Mary look so serious before.  
“Don’t be a buzzkill.” I tell her. “I do wha’ever the fuck I want wi’ my money.”  
“Get her out of here before she breaks something.” The bartender says in a strained voice. Mary and Lillian grab my arms and start hauling me outside. I try to get loose but my motor skills are somewhat lacking right now.  
“Le’ go’ve me.”  
“Where should we take her?” Lillian asks Mary. Being ignored just pisses me off even more and I begin shouting every swear I know at them.  
“The Little Drummer. They’ve got rooms that aren’t too much.” The shouting doesn’t seem to be doing much, so I start trying to kick them. No luck there either. Damn my noodle legs. The last thing I remember before blacking out is Lillian’s hand on my forehead, feeling cool against my skin.  
“Shhhhh.” She whispers. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”

Wherever I found to pass out last night is more comfortable than usual, though that doesn’t do much about easing my hangover. I grope for a bottle without thinking, but come back empty handed. Did I lose my fucking drink? God it tastes like something crawled in my mouth and died there. Even turning over hurts my head, and I groan.  
“Easy there.” A soft voice says. “You’ve had quite the night.”  
“Quite the few days.” Someone chips in.  
Their voices make my head pound. I just want my whiskey back, but when someone supports my head so I can drink they only offer me water.  
“I want my fucking booze.”  
“Well this is just going to have to do.” I can barely stomach a sip of water before I begin retching.  
“Give it back.”  
“Later.”  
“Fuck you man, who the fuck do you think you are?”  
“You were the one that almost threw up all over us.”  
A hazy memory appears on the edge of my mind. “Lillian? Mary?”  
“We’re right here.”  
“Why’re you doing this to me?” I’d be angry, but my head hurts too much. “Thought you guys were meant to be my friends.”  
“Friends know when to step in.” I turn my head away from the water Lillian offers me again. “Come on. Just takes these pills to help you get to sleep.” Well it’s not my usual cure, but at this point I’ll do just about anything to ease my throbbing head. I open my mouth, letting Mary place a couple of bitter white pills on my tongue. Getting them down is hard, but I manage it.  
“Would you shut that damn thing up?” I murmur, waving towards a ticking noise that sets my teeth on edge. It stops after a moment. “Thanks.”  
“It’s okay.” Lillian’s hand is back on my forehead, soothing me. “Those pills are gonna help you sleep, and you’ll feel much better when you wake up.”  
I almost laugh. Sleep? With the pain in my head I don’t think I’ll be sleeping very soon. But true to Lillian’s word I begin to find it difficult to keep my eyes open.


	21. Recovery

It’s not sleep though, not exactly. The closest thing I can remember experiencing is after I was stung back in Arroyo. The confusion, the drifting. The pain in my head doesn’t go away, but it does ease after a while. 

When I regain my senses I can tell by the light that it’s late afternoon. It’s still too bright in here, even with the curtains pulled. I try to get up, but the ground dips under my feet. “Fuck.” I moan softly, holding my head.  
God I need a drink.  
I try to stand up again, succeeding this time in spite of the room spinning around me. I stumble my way to the door. Screw my usual haunt. I’ll just drink here tonight. I turn the door handle only to find it locked.  
My heart starts beating faster. I don’t like it here, the room seems so small that I’m sure I’ll be squashed any minute now. Slightly panicky, I head for the window. Only to find that it’s covered in iron bars.  
I’m screwed. The bedsprings give a rusty screech as I plop down. I remember what happened of course, how could I forget? But where the hell are Mary and Lillian? The thought that they might have left me here alone makes me sick to my stomach. But they wouldn’t really do that would they? There’s only one way to find out. I pad over to the door and begin to call through it.

“Mary? Lillian? Are you out there?” No answer. Fuck. I slam my fist against the door in frustration. “Come on guys. I know you wouldn’t leave me here alone. Just answer me.”  
“We’re here.” Mary sounds hesitant, but relief washes over me like summer rain. I sink to my knees, resting my forehead against the door.  
“Why am I locked up?”  
“Sorry.”  
“Getting real tired of your shit Lillian.” I mumble. “Just answer me.”  
“We were scared that when you’d woke up you’d attack us. You’re kinda funny in the head at the moment.”  
Their words send a knife straight through my heart. My friends, the people that saved me. I would never do anything to hurt them and yet there they are, hiding from me. “Can you come in here?” I ask in a small voice. “I promise I’m not gonna do anything.”  
A moment of silence, then I hear the click of the door being unlocked. There’s a moment after the door opens where I just sit there. But then I burst into tears, launching forward to wrap my arms around their legs.  
“I’m sorry.” I mumble through my broken sobs.  
A hand strokes my hair as I hold on tight. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Lillian murmurs as she guides me back to the bed.  
“But I- and you, oh fuck!” My head hurts too much to let me think straight, but I know I’ve done enough for them to be angry.  
“You’re safe now. Just rest and we can talk later.”  
I allow myself to be guided back to bed. “I owe you guys.” I mumble. “I owe you big time.”

When the throbbing ache in my head finally fades enough for me sit up, their anxious faces are the first thing I see.  
“You feeling alright?” Asks Mary.  
“Fuck no I’m not alright.”  
“Yeah no kidding, I can’t believe the state we found you in. How long have you been drinking yourself to death?”  
I shrug. “Kinda hard to keep track of time. What day is it?”  
“Friday.”  
“Sorry but that doesn’t really help. The last thing I remember clearly was visiting my mother.”  
“Your mother?” Lillian looks startled. “Why would you go back there?”  
“Because I’m an idiot that can’t leave the past alone like I should.”  
“Did she do all that to you?” Mary says with disgust.  
“What?” I glance down at myself, noticing the bandages for the first time. “I was injured?”  
I don’t miss the nervous glance they share at my question. “Yeah,” says Lillian eventually. “Pretty badly in some spots.”  
“What’s the damage?”  
“Two broken ribs, burns and lacerations all over your body, some infections that thankfully didn’t go too far, and one hell of a fucked up mental state.”  
“Some of that might have been the big fight from about a week back, I dunno what else might’ve happened though.”  
“You went a whole week without treatment?” Mary says. “No wonder you were in such bad shape.”  
I sigh. “You want to know don’t you?”  
“Yeah, how else are we gonna hunt down the bastards that hurt you?”  
I give a watery smile at Mary’s resolve. “Know any good psychics? That’s about the only place you could start.”  
“Damn.”  
“Yeah, damn is right. I uh, I probably owe you some explanation. After we parted for the first time I was basically raised by a guy with the Followers. He died. I’m pretty cut up about it.”  
“I don’t understand. What does this have to do with your mother?”  
I ignore the question. “I need some rest.”

They allow me to roll over and close my eyes, but my mind isn’t as respectful in my time of need. Without alcohol to cloud my memories, they return sharper than ever. I don’t pay attention to who stays by my side to comfort me. I just cling to them tightly as my arms allow, desperate for someone that won’t be ripped away like everyone else.  
Everyone I’ve ever lost plays in my mind. Andy and my brother at the front, behind them my mother, separated from everyone else by a wall of trauma. The faces of everyone I’ve ever saved and never seen again come next, and then the faces of everyone I couldn’t save, and everyone I ever killed. A prisoner that was once a legionary, people who I’ll never know anything about that didn’t know to stay away, raiders, guards, and an entire camp of legionaries.

I’m tired. I’m so very tired. But sleep only makes their faces clearer. The pain in my head fades, but the pain in my heart only grows stronger. I do the only thing I can.  
I imagine Andy.  
Not Andy as I saw him last, beaten and broken down. Andy as I knew him. The Andy I travelled with. I picture him standing by my bedside, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, face creased in a worried frown.  
“What are you doing Molly?” He doesn’t say. “We need to hit the road again.”  
I shut my eyes tighter. “You died Andy. You died and it was all my fault. I’m so sorry.”  
He would sigh here, if he really was by my bed. “We all die. Anyway, I thought we established it wasn’t your fault.”  
“How is it not? Even if I didn’t pull the trigger, I made the wrong choice, asked the wrong person for help.”  
I picture fury filling Andy’s face. I picture him yelling, blaming me for everything like I deserve, but I know deep down that isn’t what he’d do.  
“Go get help.”  
By the time I open my mouth to reply, he’s not standing there anymore. He never was.  
My head is clearer now. I allow myself to think for the first time in days.  
I have to, because now I have a choice.

Option one: Ignore it. Find solace in movement, or solitude, or chemicals. Do everything I can to forget and hope the pain dies down eventually. Hope my wounds heal on their own.

Option two: Fight it. Get help, build a new life. Spend every scrap of energy I have working past my pain. Live.

I know what Andy would do, but am I strong enough to fight myself?

Fuck. It should be so easy, but I just want the world to go away. I want reality to stop bothering me for just five fucking seconds.  
But it’s important.  
Because more than the pain stopping, I want to do right by the best family I ever had. I want to fight, even if I don’t know how. I scream to the world, yet not a sound leaves me as I make my promise. _My name is Molly, and I will get through this. I’ll learn to live again. I’ll work through the pain. I swear to you Andy, I’ll live my life right._

And that’s it.

Because I’ve never broken a promise to Andy. And I never will.


	22. Blowing In The Wind

Once Mary and Lillian know what happened, a story told through tears over the course of a few days, they insist that I stay with them.  
“We aren’t leaving you alone in a time like this.” Lillian says when I protest. “We can put off our caravan circuit if we have to.”  
I shake my head. “You don’t have to.”  
“We won’t if you come with us.”  
It’s draining, all this talking. But I just nod, not wanting to cause trouble.  
I’m silent as we walk through the desert, remembering the last time I met Mary and Lillian.  
“I have a name now.” I say at last. “I’m called Molly.”  
I don’t respond to their questions. I just can’t right now. I watch the Bison Steve’s roller coaster grow bigger as we head towards it.  
“Molly.” Mary says as we’re on the town’s outskirts. “Are you okay?”  
“No.” I say honestly. “But I will be.”  
Because I promised.  
Everything hurts right now. But I guess that’s life sometimes.

In Primm I curl up. Everything in me screams for another drink, but I grit my teeth. Refusing to give in.  
 _I will be myself again. I will!_

Some days pass. I spend all of them watching the sunlight from our hotel window travels across the ground in a dust yellow beam. Mary and Lillian take turns sitting by my side, speaking hollow words that have no meaning for me right now. All I manage to pick up is that Tom’s coming. I drift off to sleep, unsure if I’m ready for another visitor.  
But he comes anyway. Words pour from his mouth like water the second he steps in the door.  
“I got your message. What-” He falls silent as he sees me lying on the floor. “Kid?”  
“Molly now.” I whisper. “Heya Tom.”  
“What happened to ya? Did you really leave like these two told me?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Tom, let her be.” Lillian says. “She’s going through a lot right now.”  
“Have ya looked for a doctor? I know’ve a few tha’ can help.”  
I remember the change in Andy over our months in Freeside. It hurts, but I know Tom has a point. I should have seen a doctor a long time ago.  
“I’ll go. I need to sort myself out. Just point.”

Maybe my luck got tired of pushing me down, or maybe it wanted its next cruel move to hurt even more, but a psychiatrist with the Followers is passing through. I stand silently as an appointment schedule is sorted out.  
Weeks drag by. Weeks of hard work and watching it all crumble every time I think I’m getting somewhere. Eventually though, I’m able to think clearly again.

It’s time.

The wind blows to the west as I stand on a hill outside of Primm. At my feet sit’s the box holding Andy’s ashes. I take a deep breath and grip my holoplayer tight as it sings.  
 _How many roads must a man walk down  
Before you can call him a man?_  
Tears stream down my cheeks as I lift the box with trembling hands. The wind catches Andy’s ashes as I pour them out, scattering them towards the horizon.  
“Until the stars go out.” I murmur as the last of the ashes dance away.  
 _The answer my friend_  
Is blowing in the wind.  
The answer is blowing in the wind.

The melancholy sound of the harmonica signals the end of Andy’s favourite song as I kneel to place the holotape beside Andy’s rifle. After a moment of thought I leave a second memento.  
A battered book with a faded blue cover. Full of names I’ll never need again. I take a moment to read the inscription I spent hours carving into a large rock before I turn to leave.

_In memory of Andrew Hernandez. May your travels in the next life be safe._

I don’t speak for the rest of the day.


	23. Epilogue

I need a job.

Primm is so settled, there’s nothing to do here. No way to keep myself occupied. Mary agrees with me, Lillian and Tom aren’t so sure. I ignore them and ask my doctor what he thinks.  
“Hard to tell. You’ve been doing so well Molly, I’d hate for you to lose yourself again.”  
We agree to cut down on appointments, just to see if I can handle it.

A few more weeks and I find exactly what I’m looking for, right in the heart of Primm. As a courier I can travel just as much as I always have, and get paid for the privilege. It’s a risky business, that’s for sure, but the risks are nothing I can’t handle. My appointments with the doctor grow less frequent as I move further afield, until I’m only visiting Primm when the memories overcome me. It happens less as time goes by, something I’ll be forever grateful for. What doesn’t go away is the feeling late at night when there’s no town in sight. When I wake to find myself alone and swear that I can still hear Andy’s voice in the distance, singing.

_The answer my friend_  
_Is blowing in the wind._  
_The answer is blowing in the wind._

Some things never go away. Some things you never want to go away. Very rarely are these things one and the same. I pick up my pack, and continue my journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Hope you enjoyed the story and please, even if it's five years from when I published, leave a comment! It means a lot to me. Hope everything is okay, I've never published before.


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